


Dated Once, Twice Shy!

by Ninja_Librarian



Series: The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes! [8]
Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Awkward double date time, Cartoon Typical Violence, F/M, Introducing Morgana!, Jim Starling is the Hawkmoth of Duckburg, M/M, Some not cartoon typical violence, You're going to want to read 'Going Once Going Twice' before this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:57:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23602453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninja_Librarian/pseuds/Ninja_Librarian
Summary: Nearly twenty years ago, two very different shows were unexpectedly cancelled, leaving two stars heartbroken. Now, Jim Starling is reaching out to his former on-again, off-again girlfriend, Morgana McCawber, so that they can fulfill a vow they made to make the world pay for cancelling them. Starting with one upstart calling himself Darkwing Duck...Meanwhile, Fenton is panicking over going on a date with Gandra Dee as Gizmoduck. After all, she knows who is beneath the suit--which will make it difficult for Fenton to keep up the Gizmoduck persona. When Darkwing Duck and Elise offer to go along on the world's most awkward double date, they think that will be the worst of the night.It is not.
Relationships: Daisy Duck/Donald Duck, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gandra Dee, Jim Starling/Morgana
Series: The Many Adventures of Duckburg's Heroes! [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1478648
Comments: 75
Kudos: 176





	1. Chapter 1

_Two Weeks Previous…_

Morgana MacCawber reached up to adjust a curl that hung in front of her hair. Black, freshly dyed, like her nail polish and lipstick and shoes and…

The look in her agent’s eyes as they stood in front of the studio they had just been kicked out of.

“So,” Morgana said easily, her years of acting providing a calm meter in her voice that she did not feel internally. “That did not seem to go well.”

“You think?” Olivia snapped, throwing her hands in the air. “What have I told you, Morgana? The most important thing about when we go for readings?”

“To not bring bats?”

“And spiders. And mice. And skulls. And… whatever other creepy things you keep in those pockets of yours! But I specifically told you no spiders! I told you directly, the director is terrified of spiders!”

“Technically, you said no _live_ spiders. And you know that I believe that anyone who is afraid of spiders simply hasn’t gotten to know one yet! And that’s why I brought Silky!” Morgana lifted her cat-sized tarantula-shaped robot as emphasis.

“That stupid robot of yours is as close to ‘live’ as you and me!” Olivia snapped.

Morgana gently stroked Silky in her arms and whispered, “Don’t worry, Silky, she doesn’t think you’re actually stupid.”

“No, I reserve that for you, Morgana,” Olivia said, pinching the feathers between her eyes. “Look, I’ve been patient. But this… this can’t keep happening. I worked my tailfeathers off to get you that reading. You have a reputation, you know? No one wants you to come do a reading—not even for a local furniture store radio bit! I was so certain that I could fix this for you, but you… you keep sabotaging yourself—and me!—at every turn. With your… spiders, and potions, and bats, and magic, and other creepy things! And it’s embarrassing me! My professional reputation! I can’t go on like this, Morgana!”

Morgana blinked her eyes, heavily lined with kohl and the lids painted dark red. “You’re… you’re quitting on me?”

“No,” Olivia said slowly. “No. I’m _firing_ you. I’m firing you as my client.”

Morgana stood dejectedly in front of the studio, watching Olivia stomp away, feeling totally dejected. It took several minutes before she found her refurbished hearse in the parking lot and drove…

Morgana sighed as she stared at what was her ‘home’. It had once been her on-set trailer when she was the star of the hit nineties sit-com, _The Creepers_. Where she had played the role of Perila Creeper, the eccentric witch cousin of the Creeper matriarch and patriarch, who was charming and had men falling at her feet, who was often leading the younger Creepers to join her in mischief along with her pet spider Silky, who always had a witty quip or clever scheme at the ready, who was self-confident, and beautiful, and a role model for young girls, and successful no matter how many times she declared she was going back to school—after all, she was an immortal vampire, why shouldn’t she take advantage of higher education, especially in a century that finally allowed for women to attend?

And now…

Now all Morgana had left was a trailer with flat tires, boxes of hair dye in her recycling bin in an attempt to recapture her youth, ‘WITCH’ crudely spray-painted in black by some local kids, the remnants of rotten fruit that hadn’t been washed away by rain that had also been the result of some local kids, and a cobweb-coated museum—or, perhaps more accurately in more than one way, a mausoleum—to her ultimate career success.

And immortalized the moment it was all over, when _The Creepers_ was canceled.

It was the beginning of the end. She had some small roles, cameos or bit pieces, a couple of sassy-best-friend parts for rom-coms.

But nothing she had sought was truly satisfying the way Perila Creeper had been.

Nothing had the same magic Perila had…

She wanted the magic. She wanted it so bad. She loved being able to watch herself, moving things, transforming things, taking so much control of her life and everything around her on screen. She missed it.

She wished it had been real.

The magic. The control. The life…

She had tried to infuse Perila into the characters she read for—to infuse more of herself into the role, really—but to no avail. Her improvisations—improvements, more accurately—were not appreciated.

And had cost her many, many, many talent agents who passed her off from one to another. She was not ignorant that Olivia had drawn the short straw, by being the newest member of her firm.

But now… now she had nothing. No career, fading beauty, her royalty money nearly all gone and bills mounting up…

Morgana sighed and hit her forehead on the steering wheel, allowing a single tear to roll down her face.

She sat up and wiped away that tear. That was all she would allow herself.

It was all that Perila Creeper would allow herself.

Then she frowned, noticing that the front door was open, just slightly ajar.

Then she was filled with anger.

Those local kids… Oh, she was going to show them! They messed with the wrong witch on a very wrong day!

Morgana got out of the car and slammed the door.

“I know you’re in there, you little hoodlums!” She yelled. “I’m going to give you to the count of three, and if you’re not out by then, I’ll put a hex on you! One! Two!”

But before she got to ‘three’, the door creaked open and she gasped, taking a step back at who she saw.

“A hex, huh?” A rough voice said. “Sounds dangerous. Lucky for you, toots, I’ve always loved danger.”

Morgana put a hand to her chest.

“Jim?” She exclaimed as he emerged from the trailer. “Why, I haven’t seen you in years! What are you doing here?”

“Came to see you, of course,” Jim Starling said, leaning against the door to her trailer. “I’ve missed you, Morgana.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Morgana admitted, smiling slightly at him.

She had first met Jim Starling when she had been asked to come on as a guest role as a villain on his show, _Darkwing Duck_. They had hit it off, and Morgana could admit she had developed quite a bit of a crush on him, suggesting to _The Creepers_ showrunner to ask Jim to come and do a guest role, too. It started a back and forth between Morgana returning onto _Darkwing Duck_ , and Jim onto _The Creepers_. But it also started an on-again, off-again relationship between them, to the delight of both of their agents as well as the tabloids.

But the last time they had broken off—and for good—shortly after _Darkwing Duck_ had been canceled unexpectedly. Jim hadn’t taken the cancelation well, to say the least. She hadn’t witnessed the rampage, didn’t know how exactly things had happened, but she had seen the tabloid photos taken of the carnage and aftermath. Though he disappeared for a while, and Morgana thought she’d never see or hear him again. So she was shocked when he did call on her after the news had dropped that _The Creepers_ wasn’t going to be renewed for another season—something the rest of the cast had delighted in while Morgana was devastated, especially as she was the very last to know, and hadn’t even known that her castmates had been trying to get the show off the air for the last two seasons and move on to bigger and better things.

Jim had come to her apartment, and she cried on his shoulder a bit; he knew how it felt to be cast off at the whims of the big-wig producers.

“We’ll make them regret it,” Jim had told her. “We’ll make them regret cancelling us.”

But that was almost twenty years ago. And now…

And now, Morgana noticed something. “Are you… wearing your costume? No, can’t be, the colors are all wrong…”

“Don’t worry about that,” Jim said. “How about we chat inside? I’ve got a present for you.”

“For me?” Morgana repeated as she followed Jim into her trailer, wishing that it had been neater. And less dust-covered. And less… sad. A soul-sucking memorial to the life and death of her career.

But at the same time, she was giddy. The man she still held a flame for was here. He was in her house!

As she converted her bed back into a couch, she saw out of the corner of her eye Jim running a finger along the dusty glass of a framed _Television Guide_ magazine cover, depicting the cast of _The Creepers_. Then he looked at the shelves lined with worn leather books (some props made of old phone books, others found at second-hand stores and contained real spells), an abundance of bottles and beakers, a tiny cauldron, and black candle stubs.

“So,” He said casually. “You’re still into that magic stuff, huh?”

“Yeah,” Morgana said as she tossed a throw pillow onto the couch.

“Can you still do that trick with the snake?” Jim asked, smiling fondly.

Morgana let out a small snort of laughter. “You’re never going to let me live that one down, huh?”

“Only you could find a baby python and think it was a full-grown garden-variety snake, Morgs,” Jim responded. “And then lose it in a restaurant.”

“Oof, my agent had a fit over my first life-time ban from an establishment,” Morgana said with another laugh.

“Yeah, well, their loss,” Jim said, flopping down on the couch. “Besides, the food wasn’t even that great.”

Morgana sat on the couch opposite him, studying him. “What brought on this reunion?” She asked, still wanting to know why he was in costume. Or some alternate universe version of his costume. Though she had to admit, he cut a dashing figure in the yellow and red ensemble.

Jim sat still for a moment, then he shifted, sitting up and reaching into his pocket. “I got you a present.”

Morgana frowned, eying him warily. That was just like Jim. Every time they had a fight—which was frequent whenever they were about to start their ‘off again’ status—he would gift her something. Flowers, usually, though he had also presented her with a pair of earrings made of onyx (which she had goaded the costume director to let her wear in a few episodes), crystals, and one of the genuine spellbooks that currently sat on her shelf. They’d kiss and make up until the next fight, and repeat until they were officially ‘off again’.

She knew, logically, that pattern wasn’t healthy. But that hadn’t stopped her from going ‘on again’ with him time and time again. Plus, Jim was the only one of her boyfriends to get her things that actually matched her personality and interests. The others treated her interest in the paranormal as a bothersome quirk. So it was sweet. In a way.

“What’s the occasion?” She asked as Jim pulled a small, flat black box tied with a blood-red ribbon out of his pocket, putting it into her hands.

“Just because,” Jim said with a small smirk. “Go on, open it.”

She tugged on the ribbon and opened the box. She gasped.

“Jim,” She whispered as she lifted the ruby necklace out of the box. “It’s gorgeous.”

“I think you’ll like it even better after I tell you more about it,” Jim said, leaning back on the couch, putting his ankle on the opposite knee, his hands behind his head. “Remember that time we were watching the news, and it was covering that Scrooge McDuck battling Magica DeSpell?”

Gently running her thumb over the gleaming stone, Morgana nodded, her cheeks heated.

“I remember,” She whispered.

Her heart bursting with envy, every bit of her desiring what Magica had, hating the sorceress for abusing what she so dearly wanted.

And telling Jim that she wished she had magic. Real magic, not the special effects type that had been the rise and fall of her defunct career.

He hadn’t laughed, just cocked an eyebrow at her, nodding slightly in understanding. He wasn’t staring at her like she was insane, or giving her a pitying look. Just… understanding.

It was one of the reasons they always found themselves ‘on again’. Because he understood her the best.

The Jim of the present nodded in a similar way. “I never forgot what you said,” He told her. “About wanting magic of your own. And so I finally found it.”

“Found what?” Morgana asked.

Jim’s smile grew, lazy and self-confident. “A way to give you magic.”

Morgana’s eyes widened and she looked down at the necklace. “Jim, what is this?”

Jim moved down on the couch to sit closer to her, cupping his hand around hers around the stone. “This is the Blood Ruby of Toucanistan. It gives its wearer magical abilities. The gold heightens its powers. I also have a genuine spellbook for you.”

Morgana could hardly breathe.

Magic. Real magic for her to use.

Morgana met Jim’s eyes. “How…? No, I don’t care about the how,” She said suddenly, realizing that wasn’t the right question. “Why? Why now? And why is your costume like this? Why are you even wearing your costume?”

Jim’s grip on her hand tightened, but not in an uncomfortable way.

“Did you know that they were going to make a _Darkwing Duck_ movie?” He asked.

“No,” Morgana said, her brow furrowing. “I didn’t.”

“Me neither,” Jim said bitterly. “I was pretty much the last person to know. They replaced me with some actor kid. Damn director didn’t even have a clue who I was. Me. Jim Starling. _The_ Darkwing Duck.”

Morgana’s heart sank. She knew how he was feeling would be the same in her position, if _The Creepers_ was rebooted and she wasn’t consulted, not even told, no one remembering to even mention it. Or even knew her name.

Replaced.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered.

“Oh, it gets worse,” Jim said with a bark of humorless laughter. “That hack of an actor put a fan—a true fan—in danger, all so he could steal the glory. Humiliate me. And now? Now that dumb kid is running around Duckburg, thinking he’s some sort of real superhero. Using the name Darkwing Duck, too.”

Morgana’s eyes widened in horror. “Oh, Jim…”

“How would you feel if some young thing went prancing about proclaiming she was the one and only, the true Perila Creeper?” Jim asked her.

“That would be…” Morgana started, her heart in her throat.

Heartbreaking. Humiliating. Soul crushing.

Jim suddenly moved, getting on his knees in front of Morgana, looking her in the eye, reaching up one hand to cup her cheek.

“Remember how I told you that, someday, we would make the world regret canceling us? Throwing us to the side like we were garbage? Using us and then disposing of us? For crushing our hearts, souls, and dreams?”

“Yes,” Morgana said, her hand clenching tighter around the ruby necklace. Suddenly, she straightened her shoulders. “Yes, I do.”

She looked down at the ruby in her palm. Then she looked up at Jim, a glint in her eye.

“We will have our revenge,” She told him.

Jim’s grin grew. He stood up and bowed to her in a grandiose manner. “May I have the honor?”

Morgana put the necklace in his hand, then turned her back to him, lifting up her hair so he could clasp the necklace around her neck.

She took a deep breath as it was secured, the gold cold against her skin.

She could feel it. Could feel the magic soaking into her.

Morgana McCawber had never felt so alive.

Morgana stood up, taking Jim by the hand. “What is our next step?”

Jim grinned and squeezed her hand, then gestured with his head to the trailer around them. “Think this old thing could survive a move to Duckburg?”


	2. Chapter 2

_Present_

“Thanks for helping me get everything organized, guys,” Elise said as she, Drake and Launchpad each entered the Money Bin’s brand-new infirmary, each carrying a cardboard box full of medical supplies in their arms.

“No problem,” Drake said, setting his box on a counter. “Especially considering it seems fair, given that I’m most likely the person who is going to need all this stuff.”

“Well, there is that simple fact of life,” Elise agreed as she set her own box down on a short, rolling stool. She opened the box, starting to unpack the contents. “Just, try to give it a while before we christen this place, okay?”

“I’ll do my best, but make no promises,” Drake said.

“Elise, I need you!” Fenton declared as he burst into the room.

“That didn’t take long, haven’t even got the shop set up yet,” Elise said, putting a hand on her hip as she turned to look at Fenton, examining him with her eyes. “Well, you’re not bleeding, nothing looks broken or dislocated, and you’re not on fire. What’s the problem, Fenton?”

“I need an excuse note,” Fenton declared.

“Like, a doctor’s excuse note?” Elise said with a short laugh. “You’re not in high school anymore. And, again, you look perfectly healthy.”

“But, but…” Fenton said nervously. “You could say I’m not? Maybe? Please?”

“What did you break and how badly will Gyro want to kill you for it?” Drake asked, listening for the distinct sound of an enraged mad genius.

“I didn’t break anything!” Fenton snapped. “I just… Come on, Elise, help me out here?”

He got on his knees in front of Elise and threaded his fingers together in a praying, pleading way, purposefully widening his eyes to add to his pitiful expression.

Elise rolled her eyes at him and turned her back to him, unpacking her box. “Why exactly do you need me to say something’s wrong with you, when there’s clearly nothing wrong with you?”

Fenton sighed and stood back up. “Look, tomorrow is the night I’m supposed to have that date with Gandra.”

“Gandra?” Drake repeated. “The lady who won the bid to go on a date with Gizmoduck?”

“And broke Fenton’s heart before that!” Launchpad added. “Because she was a spy for Mark Beaks, and after the passcode for the Gizmoduck armor!”

“Why does everyone feel the need to add that part?” Fenton asked dryly. He groaned and rubbed his temples with his fingers. “Yes, Gandra. Of the previous back-stabbing. Of the broken heart. Of the…” He dropped his hands and crossed his arms like an X before his chest and then quickly moved them apart. “You know what, let’s just stop the pity party and Elise, you can just call her and tell her that Gizmoduck can’t make it because… I don’t know, I don’t care, just make something up!”

Elise tilted her head back in an exasperated manner before turning back to face Fenton. “No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“… Pretty please?”

“N. O.” Elise said, spitting out each letter. “You’re bilingual, so let me tell you in Spanish, too, to get the point across your thick skull: _No_.”

“What’s the big deal?” Drake asked. “You’re just going out for dinner. And you’re going to be going as Gizmoduck. Surrounded by reporters. You’ll have polite but stilted conversations, split a plate of appetizers and maybe a dessert, and go your separate ways.”

“I know,” Fenton groaned. “And that’s part of the problem. Things are… awkward. Super awkward.”

“Pun intended?” Launchpad asked as he put rolls of gauze in a cabinet.

“No, actually,” Fenton admitted, hopping onto the exam table, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. “This is not a pun situation. No puns. All seriousness. I just don’t know what to do or say to her. I haven’t spoken to her since the night at the bachelor’s auction. She knows who I am beneath the suit, and told me that was who she was actually bidding for. But she… I don’t know, something’s off. I don’t know why she bothered to come back, or why she wanted to see me again. If I’m just part of some scheme again, or if she actually wants to see me. Ugh. The whole reason I agreed to this was so I could just go on one date, no strings attached. Just me, as Gizmoduck, with some hopefully nice lady who I would share a meal with then probably never interact with again. And now, it’s Gandra and I just don’t know what to do or say…”

Fenton sighed and dropped his hands from his face, letting his arms hang between his legs forlornly. “Look, I can fake it when I’m Gizmoduck. I can be a whole other person when I’m Gizmoduck. But Gandra knows Fenton. She knows Fenton is Gizmoduck. And I… I don’t know if I can be that Gizmoduck around her. I’ll just be Fenton wearing Gizmoduck armor.”

“I get that,” Drake said with a nod. “Like I’m a different Darkwing around you guys, and Gos, and really anyone who knows who I really am.”

“Because we can call you out on your crap,” Elise said flatly. “Especially when you get to be incredibly insufferable.”

“Thanks,” Drake said dryly. Then, suddenly, it was like a lightbulb went off in his head. “Wait, I’ve got an idea. It sounds like what you need is a buffer.”

“A buffer?” Fenton said, lifting his head some.

“Yeah, someone to help diffuse awkwardness. Kind of to help you remember to be Gizmoduck instead of Fenton,” Drake said. He turned to Elise. “Hey, Elise, what are your plans for tomorrow night?”

“Sweatpants, wine, and NewtFlix,” Elise responded. “Why?

“I can get you one of those things. Because I believe I owe you a date,” Drake said.

“You mean the craziest thing I paid good money for after only two glasses of wine?” Elise said, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes. That exactly,” Drake said.

“I thought we agreed we’d not and say we did,” Elise pointed out.

“Yeah, but if we do it as a double date with Gizmoduck and Gandra, then we can serve as buffers for them, hopefully making it less awkward,” Drake told her.

Elise considered it. “It’s not your worst idea ever. And it means I don’t have to cook… Zan’s out of town at a conference anyway… Okay. I’m in.”

Fenton sat up straight, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide as he looked back and forth between Drake and Elise. “You guys would do that for me?”

“Yep,” Drake said. “We will go on the world’s most awkward and oddball pairing double date for you, Fenton.”

Fenton leapt off the exam table. “You guys are the best! I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you!”

“Oh, we’ll think of some way,” Elise told him, a glint in her eye. “Believe me.”

*****

“I just can’t believe her,” Daisy exclaimed, practically seething into her cellphone. “Roxanne knows I have a date tomorrow night. And yet, what does she do? Pretend that she’s being a good person and convince the producer to have me cover the Gizmoduck—now Gizmoduck _and_ Darkwing Duck—bachelor auction date tomorrow—because I _deserve it_ , since I was the one who covered the initial event, since I’ve showed _so much initiative_. Even though that’s two weekends in a row! Even though she was pretty much shoving it in people’s faces that she was going to cover it! Even though we all know that the only reason she doesn’t want it now is because Darkwing Duck will be here! And I’m her favorite target to pin anything she doesn’t want on! She’s being totally spiteful, and I have _no idea_ why.”

“You did tell her to eat her heart out on a live television broadcast, Daisy,” Minnie told her calmly, the sound of a sewing machine humming in the background, indicating that Daisy was on speakerphone. “You think that might have something to do with it?”

“What’s your point?” Daisy asked.

Minnie sighed. “Have you told Donald?”

Daisy sighed and rubbed her forehead as she continued to pace in her bedroom. “No. Not yet. Ugh, we just wanted a low-key date. We were literally just going to get burgers and ice-cream! We both agreed to purposefully low standards for a date, because he hasn’t dated in a long time and has all these concerns about dating, and I am low maintenance anyway—”

Minnie let out a scoff of laughter at that and mumbled something that sounded like, “Yeah, right.”

Daisy scowled at her phone, wishing she could be giving her best friend the death glare at that moment. Instead, Minnie was several hours away in their hometown of Mouseton, while Daisy was here in Duckburg, still waiting to make it big time as a reporter. And to gain more friends other Dave the cameraman and the intern. And, hey, maybe a boyfriend! If this date went well…

“As I was saying,” Daisy said with a bit of attitude. “I don’t want to cancel with Donald.”

“Then don’t,” Minnie said. “Reschedule. See if he wants to go out for lunch instead of dinner. But you can’t wait until the last minute.”

Before Daisy could respond, her phone indicated that she had another call incoming. She lower the phone to see the screen and gasped. “Minnie, it’s him, I’ll call you back!” She accepted Donald’s call before Minnie could respond, smiling as she said, “Hi, Donald!”

“Hi, Daisy,” Donald said, sounding nervous. “I, uh, I was callin’ to—”

“Friend Donald! I believe I can determine the first digit to be a six!” Called a deep voice in the background.

“Storkules!” Donald snapped, sounding suddenly irritated. “I’m on the phone!”

“Never thee mind! I have it upside down! Tis a nine! Or is it?”

Daisy resisted the urge to giggle as she heard Donald sigh. “My bad luck struck again,” He said simply. “Storkules used the napkin you wrote your address on to mop up some spilled soup.”

“Forgive me and my clumsiness, Fair Daisy!” Storkules yelled from the distance.

“Accidents happen,” Daisy said. “I’ll text you my address. A little harder to destroy than a Starducks napkin.” She cleared her throat. “Uh, Donald? Um, about tomorrow night?”

There was a pause and then a forced casual, “Yeah?”

“It’s just… Ugh, my boss assigned me to cover the Gizmoduck date from the bachelor auction, and it was forced on me so I can’t switch or anything and—”

“It’s okay,” Donald said, sounding a bit disheartened. “Work is work.”

“No,” Daisy said. “It’s not okay. I was looking forward to this. I hope you were looking forward to this… I was wondering if you would want to reschedule?”

She said that last part hopefully and she could hear the relief in Donald’s voice as he said, “Oh, yeah. We can do that. Or…” She heard something in his voice that sounded a bit hopeful as well. “What if we both went to the restaurant for you to cover the date?”

“I hadn’t thought of that,” Daisy admitted. “But that’s a good idea. I mean, there’s only so much I can do other than just sit around awkwardly watching two couples eat dinner and taking notes. And not being alone sounds great… But wouldn’t we need a reservation?”

“Let me talk to Uncle Scrooge,” Donald said. “He can pull some strings. And he owes me a favor. And, technically, you did buy a date with me last week.”

“That I did,” Daisy said with a slight chuckle, remembering how she and Donald ended up getting together in the first place through a series of shenanigans orchestrated by his family.

“In which case, you deserve a better date than just burgers and ice cream,” He told her. “Lemme talk to him, and I’ll call you back. Okay?”

“Okay. Sounds good,” Daisy said. “And, Donald?”

“Yes, Daisy?”

“For the record, I think burgers and ice cream make a great date. So long as it’s with you.”

There was the sound of soft, shy, nervous laughter on the other line and Storkules asked, “Friend Donald? Dost thou feel ill? Your face is as red as—”

“I’ll call you back, Daisy,” Donald said quickly. “Bye!”

“Bye,” Daisy responded as Donald hung up.

She flopped over onto her bed, clutching her phone between her hands.

Daisy couldn’t help but let out a laugh, her smile huge.

She had this feeling that her date with Donald would be the best she had ever been on.

And, she hoped, the first of many.

******

The door to Webby’s attic bedroom was slammed open by Lena with one hand, the other holding a curling ball of shadow magic, while Violet leaped in, striking a martial arts pose, and Gosalyn came in behind them with a baseball bat ready to swing.

“We’re here!” Lena declared needlessly. “What’s the emergency?”

“Emergency is an understatement!” Huey declared as he paced. “This is impending doom!”

“What are we facing?” Violet asked. “Werewolves? Golems? Yokai?”

“Worse.” Webby said as she stood stoically in front of her board, her arms behind her back, not facing her friends.

“Ugh,” Louie groaned, rolling his eyes where he laid upside down on Webby’s top bunk, his head hanging over the side of the bed. “They’re being dramatic. And not doing it well. That’s Dewey’s thing.”

“It’s true,” Dewey said with a nod. “And I live for drama.”

“And you are underestimating the significance of the horrors that are about to take place!” Huey exclaimed hysterically.

Gosalyn huffed and lowered her bat, leaning on it. “So… Like, you guys going to tell us what’s going on, or…?”

“We have twenty-four hours to prevent Fenton from going on a date with Gandra Dee!” Webby exclaimed.

“Hold up there, Pink,” Lena said, banishing her shadow magic with a wave of her hand. “What’s wrong with this Gandra chick?”

“Is she not the woman who successfully bid on Gizmoduck at the bachelor auction?” Violet asked.

“Yes, and she and Fenton went on a date before, but it was all a set-up so she could steal the passcode to the Gizmoduck suit for Mark Beaks,” Webby said. “Who then kidnapped me and Huey and stranded us up on top of the Waddle building!”

“Okay…” Gosalyn said. “Well, if it helps, apparently my dad and Elise are both going on this date, too. She can’t pull off too much spy stuff with two superheroes there.”

“And having met and had several delightful conversations with Dr. Schwanz, I can say for certain that she is the more intimidating threat,” Violet added.

“Straight up,” Lena agreed, folding her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, that woman is in second place for the scariest nice person I have ever met,” Louie said.

“Second?” Webby asked.

“Clearly, your granny has dibs on first place.” Louie said, rolling onto his stomach.

“Yeah, but, I thought I would at least be in second,” Webby said, sounding offended.

“Webs, there’s a whole different list for you and your scary levels,” Louie assured her. “And no one is ever gonna top your place on it. Because you are downright terrifying on top of being the nicest person ever.”

“Aw, Louie, you sweet talking scoundrel, you know just what to say to make a girl blush,” Webby said with a wave of her hand, genuinely sounding pleased.

“Guys, can we be serious here?” Huey demanded. “We’ve got to do something to help Fenton!”

“It sounds like everything’s under control, though,” Dewey said. “I don’t see how us getting involved is gonna help anything.”

Huey huffed a sigh and reached up to twist one of the pushpins on Webby’s board absentmindedly, not looking at anyone. “Look, I just… I feel somewhat responsible for this? I mean, I encouraged Fenton with Gandra and tried too hard to make everything go right—and if it had, things might have been even worse for Fenton in that fight against Mark Beaks. And I was the auctioneer last week, there could have been something I could have done to prevent her from making the winning bid.”

“Hey, Fenton pretty much told you to let her win. And no one else was making any higher bids,” Gosalyn pointed out. “And everything from before just sounds like you were trying to help Fenton. You didn’t know.”

“Yeah, but we do know now what Gandra is capable of. We don’t know what she is planning,” Huey said. “But it could hurt Fenton. And Fenton’s the big brother I never had. I want to help him. Protect him.”

“Dude literally carries around a weaponized suit that interchangeably shoots rockets and pies. I think he’s capable of protecting himself.” Lena said.

“I believe the issue here is that Hubert knows that, as does Webby,” Violet said. “However, neither of them will be able to stop themselves from worrying that something will go wrong. And feel responsible—however accurate or inaccurate that feeling might be—if something were to go wrong.”

“Precisely,” Webby said, going over to rest her hand on Huey’s shoulder.

“Okay. We get that,” Louie said. “But how exactly can we do anything to help?”

Dewey suddenly snapped his fingers and grinned. “I think I’ve got an idea! We beat Gandra at her own spy game!”

“And how do we do that?” Gosalyn asked.

Dewey reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, sliding them on and striking a suave pose as he said, “We spy on her during the date!”

******

Morgana frowned at the spellbook, rubbing her thumb over the Blood Ruby. Why couldn’t she get this spell—or any spell—right?

She had been working with the Blood Ruby and Cornelia Gadwell’s diary/grimoire for two weeks, and while the potions had been easy enough to work with, the actual spells were difficult. Even what were listed as the simplest of spells was difficult. Lighting a candle only led to a small spark and a tendril of smoke from the wick. She could barely lift the lightest of objects an inch off the table. She couldn’t even turn a teacup into a newt.

Morgana was about near tears. She finally had a way to do magic—and she was the worst sorceress ever.

She felt arms around her waist and a gentle kiss against her cheek. “How’s my favorite witch?” Jim asked.

Morgana sighed and said, “I’m glad I’m your favorite, even though I’m barely even a witch.”

Jim removed his arms from around her and came to face her, a concerned frown on his face. “You’ll get it, Morgs. If anyone can figure all this hocus pocus out, it’s you. Morgana McCawber. _The_ Perila Creeper.”

“I can feel the magic,” She said. “I just… can’t get it to work right. Or strong enough. I’ve got potions galore, but those can’t do everything that we need. I won’t have time to whip up a potion in the middle of a fight.”

Jim humphed, tapping his foot and rubbing the front of his beak in thought. Suddenly, his eyes widened and he smacked his palm against his forehead.

“I’m an idiot,” He declared. “The problem isn’t you. It’s the pendant.”

“The Blood Ruby?” Morgana said, looking down at the pendant in her palm. “But I can feel the magic in it… And you said the gold heightens it…”

“The gold does heighten the power, but the Blood Ruby got its name for a reason,” Jim said. “The emperor of Toucanistan who had the Ruby last powered it through blood. It hasn’t had any blood in thousands of years. It’s outta juice.”

Morgana’s eyes widened, then she nodded. “That makes sense.”

She took off the pendant, then laid on the table. She grabbed her sewing kit and the box of matches. After lighting the candle the old-fashioned way, Morgana took a needle out and held it over the flame, sterilizing it. Before it fully processed in Jim’s brain what she was doing, Morgana pricked her thumb and smeared the blood over the pendant.

“I was gonna offer,” Jim said, a bit of a whine in his voice. “It’s what a hero would do. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“Jim, you have lost enough blood in your lifetime that I’m often surprised you’re still standing,” Morgana countered as she made sure the blood was all over the gem. She picked it up to put it back on, but Jim held out his hand.

“Here,” Jim said, taking the pendant. “I’ll put it on you.”

Morgana let him put the pendant back on, then blew out the candle.

“Alright,” She said. “Let’s see if this works.”

Focusing on the candle, she lifted her hands and made the movements as described in Gadwell’s grimoire.

They watched as the wick sparked, a solid flame burned…

And then they both dove to the floor as the candle exploded, sending chunks of wax all over the trailer.

The flame at the end of the cotton wick fluttered out of existence, and the wick—all that was left of the candle—curled as it fell into a pile on the table.

“Well then,” Jim said, standing up and brushing off his jacket. “Now that was some powerful stuff.”

“It wasn’t what I meant to happen,” Morgana said as Jim helped her to her feet. She picked up the pendant again. “And… I don’t think the pendant liked my blood. Something felt… off.”

“Whatdya mean ‘off’?” Jim asked.

“I mean, the magic was there, and it was powerful, it was just… rebellious.” Morgana said, her eyes on the ruby. She frowned, then said, “What else do you know about the Blood Ruby?”

“I’ve told you everything I know,” Jim insisted. “Crown jewel of the Tyrant King of Toucanistan, powered by blood—”

“Wait,” Morgana said. “Tyrant King? Tell me more about him.”

“Ruled a couple thousand years ago, wasn’t much liked by anyone, even his own people,” Jim said. “Conquered a lot of land, was a power-hungry warlord…”

“Wars mean fighting,” Morgana said. “And fighting means weapons. And weapons mean a way of harming another. What if the emperor took the blood from his enemies, the people who were slain on the battlefield as he conquered? What if the reason the Blood Ruby didn’t like my blood was because it was not earned in the field of battle?”

“Blood taken from enemies, not freely given or from the one who wields the Ruby,” Jim muttered. “Interesting…”

Morgana seized the needle off the table. “You stab my finger. We’ll see if that will make it work.”

Jim suddenly grinned wickedly. “I’ve got a better idea, toots.”

“I’m not going to stab you, Mr. Jim I-do-my-own-stunts-because-I’m-a-masochist Starling,” Morgana declared, putting a hand on her hip.

Jim waved a hand. “Stunt doubles are for wimps. But that wasn’t my idea. I was coming to find you, see how you were progressing, because I found out something interesting.”

Morgana nodded for him to continue.

“See, that kid proclaiming to be Darkwing Duck is having a night on the town tomorrow, going on some date as part of some charity auction,” Jim said, his grin growing. “And I know exactly where he’ll be, and when. I thought that might be an opportunity for you to make your debut. And, apparently, feed that little bloodsucker so that you can properly show your magic off to the world.”

Morgana drew herself up to full height, looking down at the Ruby.

“Feed the Blood Ruby the blood of the imposter Darkwing Duck?” She clenched her fist around the pendant and grinned. “Sounds like a perfect way to make my introduction.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Oh, boy! Everyone’s here for our super-fun sleep-over!” Huey said with forced enthusiasm as Gosalyn, Violet, Lena and Launchpad entered the mansion. “Yep, we’ve got everything we need for the best sleep-over we’ve ever had!”

Gosalyn couldn’t help but elbow Huey in the side as she passed him, hissing, “They’re gonna know we’re up to something if you keep it up!”

Huey scowled at her briefly, but didn’t get a chance to respond.

“You bet this is gonna be the best sleep-over ever!” Della declared from the top of the stairs. “We’re all going to have so much fun!”

“Uh… all of us?” Louie asked, glancing at his brothers and the girls, all but Violet with wide-eyes.

“Yeah,” Della said as she came down the stairs, grinning. “We can do so many things! We could have a _Montana Smith_ movie marathon. Ooh, or we could go investigate the ghost sightings at the old abandoned theater in town. Or we could prank call Glomgold!”

“We’ve got to do the ‘is your refrigerator running’ one if we do,” Launchpad said, nodding, looking just as eager.

“Oh, yeah, he always falls for that one, it’s great!” Della said with a laugh and a wave of her hand.

“Uh, Mom?” Dewey said awkwardly. “Launchpad? Were you… were you guys planning on hanging out with us?”

“Of course!” Launchpad said, nodding enthusiastically.

“Really?” Lena asked, arching an eyebrow. “No offense, but you two _really_ want to hang out with a bunch of kids at a sleep-over?”

Della sighed. “Look, Donald and I usually do our hanging-out on Saturdays, but he’s going on a date tonight, and obviously Drake’s out for the night too. So we’re bored. Sue us. Anyways, what do you kids want to do first?”

“I think we should order pizza first!” Launchpad said.

“Wait!” Webby said, jumping forward, stretching her hands out as if to tame rabid dinosaurs. “Uh, as fun as all of that sounds… We can’t. Do any of those things.”

“Why not?” Della and Launchpad asked.

“Uh…” Webby looked around frantically at her friends. “Because we…”

“Have homework,” Violet said quickly, coming to the defense.

“Yeah!” Webby said, nodding excitedly, then feigning disappointment. “Yeah, we have homework. Boo. No fun till it’s done.”

“But it’s the weekend!” Della groaned.

“Yeah, but it’s all very, very important!” Gosalyn insisted as she started herding people towards the stairs. “So, if you need us, we’ll be upstairs. Doing homework. Quietly.”

“Yep!” Huey exclaimed. “So quiet you would think we weren’t even there!”

“Ha!” Louie exclaimed, clamping his hand on his brother’s beak. “Classic Huey there… Anyways, see ya Mom and Launchpad!”

With that, the kids left the two pilots alone in the foyer.

“Ah, phooey,” Della huffed, kicking at the carpet.

“So…” Launchpad said, looking around the room. “Should we still order pizza, or…?”

Della sighed. “Yep. Pizza. And we’re ordering one of those giant cookies to go with it.”

“Now you’re talking, Miss D,” Launchpad said, pulling out his phone.

Della started to pace. “Ugh, I was really counting on the kids to keep me busy tonight so I can stop worrying about Donald and his date with Daisy!”

“Same for me and wondering how Drake, Fenton and Elise are doing,” Launchpad said as he pulled up the pizza app and put in the order for delivery. “And wishing I was there…”

“Everything alright down here?” Scrooge asked as he came down the stairs.

Launchpad and Della both instantly perked up, practically pouncing on the older duck.

“Hey, Mr. McD!” Launchpad exclaimed.

“Uncle Scrooge!” Della said. “You got some sort of treasure map or something?”

“Need us to fly you somewhere?” Launchpad asked.

“Maybe you want to tell us some old stories of your prospecting days?” Della suggested.

Scrooge arched an eyebrow. “You’re very bored, aren’t ya, lass?”

“So bored,” Della admitted, hanging her head. Then she straightened and clapped her hands together. “So. Whatcha got for us, Uncle Scrooge?”

“Er, I’m afraid I’m heading out myself,” Scrooge said. “Beakley’s at her book club tonight, and I’m heading to the Bin to finish up some work.”

Both Della and Launchpad’s shoulder slumped.

Scrooge’s expression suddenly brightened. “Wait a second. Ye both like video games, don’tcha?”

“Yeah?” Launchpad said hesitantly.

Scrooge reached into his pocket and pulled out a disk in a clear case. “A company in Tokyolko that makes video games wants to partner with McDuck Enterprises to get their games in the American market. They sent this as a sample. How about you two give it a whirl, see what you think of it?”

“Sweet,” Launchpad said, accepting the disk. “Thanks, Mr. McD.”

“Nice!” Della exclaimed, her eyes gleaming. “Launchpad, we’re going to have so many awesome adventures playing—”

*****

Della’s face fell as she said incredulously, “— _True Love at Sakura Academy, Doki Doki Edition_?”

“Oh, cool!” Launchpad said excitedly with a huge grin. “A dating sim!”

Della slumped backwards onto the couch. “A dating sim… There’s no adventures in a dating sim.”

“What?” Launchpad exclaimed as he turned to look at her, aghast. “Is there no adventure in navigating complex high school social circles? In getting to know that special someone? In unlocking _all_ of the endings? _In getting senpai to notice you?_ Have you _even_ played a dating sim before?”

“No,” Della admitted. “I take it you have, though.”

“Oh, yeah. Dozens.” Launchpad said. He thrust the controller into her hands. “It is an honor to be by your side as you play your first.”

“Ugh,” Della groaned as she took the controller. “Fine. But I’m not going to promise that I’ll like it.”

They were so distracted in setting up the game, that neither of them even heard or noticed anything about the kids climbing down the side of the mansion and running down Killmotor Hill.

*****

“She’s wearing pants,” Elise stated irritably, making her first observation of Gandra Dee, noting the younger woman’s ensemble from across the parking lot. “Why didn’t you tell me I could wear pants?”

“I didn’t know she was going to be wearing pants!” Darkwing hissed at her. “And I think technically those are leggings.”

“In this matter, there is no difference.” Elise told him as they started to make their way towards the small crowd in front of the restaurant.

“You’re both wearing dresses, hers just have leggings underneath. It’s not like I told you to wear a dress.”

“Pants were not implied.”

“How the heck was I supposed to imply pants?”

Elise rolled her eyes and locked arms with him, sighing as she did so. “I’m sorry. I’m just nervous about this.”

“Yeah, me too,” Darkwing admitted. “I don’t want to let Fenton down.” He paused, then added, “Mostly because I’m afraid of his mom. You know she called me and told me that if I ‘let that monster break the heart of her most precious son’, she’d break every bone in my body.”

“Well, then, we definitely can’t let Rosa Cabrera down.” Elise said with a nod.

“Because that would mean more work for you?”

“Precisely.”

They approached Gizmoduck and Gandra, and even though Gizmoduck’s face was mostly obscured by his visor, it was clear to both Darkwing and Elise that they were right on time to defuse tension and awkwardness. Gandra seemed on edge and a bit agitated, not the least bit like the confident woman they had seen the week before when she placed the winning bid for this very event.

It didn’t seem to help that there were a bunch of reporters hanging around. Darkwing gave a subtle nod of greeting to Donald Duck, who returned the gesture where he stood next to Daisy, the reporter from the auction.

“Hello,” Darkwing said to Gandra. “I’m Darkwing Duck. And you must be Gandra. Nice to meet you.”

Gandra glanced at his proffered hand, then up at him, before shaking his hand. “Likewise.” She said without any emotion.

Elise cleared her throat. “Hello. I’m Doctor Elise Schwanz. I’ve heard you’re a scientist.”

“Yeah. I am,” Gandra said, also flatly. She also shot a glance to Gizmoduck, an eyebrow arched, the silent ‘what else have you told them about me?’ on her face.

“Well, us women in STEM got to stick together, right?” Elise tried again.

Gandra made a small affirmative noise, shifting on her feet slightly and glancing at the front door to the seafood restaurant.

Darkwing and Elise exchanged a glance.

This… was not going well…

Fortunately, a tall, long-faced dog with hooded eyes came out the door, a small stack of menus clutched in his arms.

“Monsieurs and Madames, if you will please follow me?” He said in a prim voice.

Well, at least now they were getting closer to food.

*****

Donald couldn’t help but feel a tinge of pride as he and Daisy followed the two superheroes and their dates inside, loving the grin that Daisy had on her face as that of her fellow reporters’ fell when they realized that she had the ultimate inside-scoop. They were relegated to outside the establishment.

She had a reservation, courtesy of her own date.

“I’m going to have to find a way to thank your uncle for getting us reservations,” Daisy told Donald. “It was really nice of him.”

Donald chuckled. “He blustered the entire time about me owing him. But he’s a lot of bark and no bite. Besides,” He smiled shyly at her. “He really likes you. Thinks highly of you.”

Daisy blushed, her own smile growing large but also shy. “Well, that’s good. I don’t know what I would do if someone in your family disapproved. You’re so close to them, and all.”

“They love you already,” Donald insisted. “Even Mrs. B likes you, and that’s saying something.”

As they were led to their table, Donald rushed forward to pull out Daisy’s chair for her—and, no, not because it was one of Huey’s many points in his ‘How to Ace this Date’ PowerPoint presentation, but because he was a _gentleman_ , darn it. She blushed and giggled slightly as she took her seat. Donald went around to his own chair, chin held high.

This, he had a feeling, was going to be a good night.

*****

“Are we sure this is going to work?” Gosalyn asked in a low voice as they cautiously entered the restaurant and the hostess’ station, which was manned by a bored-looking college-aged dog with red hair and a nametag that read ‘ROXANNE’.

“It will, because I’m a master at this,” Louie responded. He cleared his throat and pulled out a business card. “Table for eight, ma’am.”

Roxanne looked up from her cellphone and frowned. “Uh, there’s only seven of you?”

“That is because we are waiting on another member of our party,” Louie said, slipping her the business card. “You see, our uncle, Scrooge McDuck—yes, of the McDuck Enterprises McDucks—sent us on ahead to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Roxanne sighed, grabbing menus. “Table or booth?”

“Booth!” Dewey said, his eyes wide and pointing across the restaurant. “We want that one!”

Roxanne sighed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I don’t get paid enough for this.”

After Roxanne left them at their booth, Webby said, “Good choice, Dewey. We’ve got a great vantage point, we’re still obscured from view, there’s a vent right above us—”

“And it’s right next to the lobster tank,” Lena said, gesturing beside her at Dewey, who was on his knees, his beak pressed to the glass.

“They’re blue!” Dewey exclaimed.

“Yes, despite what cartoons and other media would like you to believe, lobsters are naturally blue. They turn red in the cooking process,” Violet said.

Dewey’s head snapped around and he snapped, “Don’t say that ‘c’ word in front of Dewbsters one through seven!”

“My sincerest apologies,” Violet said with a reverent bow of her head.

Satisfied, Dewey turned back towards the lobsters, watching them with wide eyes.

“You know we’ve totally lost him for the night, right?” Louie said, looking at the menu. “Oh, cool, they’ve got blooming onions. I’m ordering one.”

“Make it two,” Lena said, holding up two fingers.

“Add in an order of crab cakes,” Violet said.

“Ooh! Mozzarella sticks!” Dewey said, looking over his shoulder. “Get mozzarella sticks!”

“Guys, guys, guys,” Gosalyn said, putting her hands on the table. “Don’t forget the big picture here.”

“She’s right,” Huey said as he pulled out binoculars. “We can’t get distracted from the mission!”

“I was actually going to say that this place has unlimited cheddar biscuits, but, yeah, there’s that, too.” Gosalyn said with a nod.

*****

Daisy looked up from the menu, her smile turning into a frown as she tilted her head to the side some.

There was a boy in a red hat, peering around a potted plant with binoculars towards the table that the two superheroes and their dates sat at.

Said boy was then grabbed by the back of the shirt and out of view by an arm glad in a green sleeve. A hoodie sleeve, if she wasn’t mistaken…

Was that…?

“So, Donald…” Daisy said cautiously. “What are your kids up to tonight?”

“They’re having a sleep-over with some friends,” Donald said, his eyes on the menu. “How do you feel about crab cakes? Do you want to split a plate?”

“Crab cakes sound good,” Daisy said a bit distractedly.

Yeah. She was pretty sure she had just caught a glimpse of two of Donald’s nephews.

Did she say anything?

No, because if she was right, Donald would have to take the kids home, cutting short their date.

And did she really want to be known as Aunt Daisy the Narc?

_Whoa,_ Aunt _Daisy? Take a couple of steps back there, girl. Like, a lot of steps back._

Anyway…

That may not have been Donald’s nephews anyway. It’d be embarrassing if she was mistaken.

Maybe she would just leave well enough alone…

*****

Gandra was angry with him.

Gizmoduck knew this, even though she had barely said two words to him.

The appetizers hadn’t even arrived and she was angry with him.

Okay, so, maybe she hadn’t taken the whole “It’s now a double-date” thing well.

Or that he only got up the nerve to text her that.

About two hours ago.

Yeah, he had screwed up. Big time.

At least, to their credit, Darkwing and Elise were trying to cut through the thick tension on the other side of the table, trying to engage both Gizmoduck and Gandra in conversation.

“So… Gandra. What is your specialty?” Elise asked as she took a sip of her wine. “Are you a chemist? Biologist? Engineer?”

“A little bit of everything,” Gandra said as she absently tore at a biscuit. “Lately, I’ve been working with nanite technology, fusing it with the body’s natural resources.”

“Oh?” Elise said, her professional side instantly intrigued. “Such as?”

Gandra dropped the halves of her biscuit and took off one of her trademark fingerless gloves. She stretched her arm across the table so that Darkwing and Elise could see where she had surgically fused nanite technology to her skin. “See these?” She brushed her thumb over her fingertips, creating a crackle of electricity that made both Darkwing and Elise’s eyes widen. Gizmoduck remembered the first time Gandra had shown him that. How she had shocked him. How he was impressed but also terrified at the fact that she had experimented on herself. He was no less impressed this time around. But perhaps terrified even more so. Gandra explained to the watching Darkwing and Elise, “The nanites take the energy my body creates and turns it into an expendable electricity.”

“Okay, that’s neat,” Darkwing said. “But why?”

Gandra slipped her glove back on, stating, “The body is capable of many, amazing things. A lot of which is taken for granted. We talk a lot about having or lacking the energy to do things. But this proves that we all have energy. We all use up energy. We all generate energy. Our own, and that generated by others. So we should be able to use it in many different ways.”

“That… didn’t really answer my question,” Darkwing said warily.

Gandra went back to decimating her biscuit. “I’m the type of scientist who asks if something can be done. Not if something should be done. I have no qualms admitting that.”

There was a finality in her voice that said that she didn’t want to discuss that topic further.

“I see,” Darkwing said, voice a bit tight in acknowledgement. “So… Did you grow up in Duckburg?”

Gandra seemed to tense up at that question, and she dropped her biscuit again.

“Um, excuse me for a moment,” Gandra said, getting up. “Restroom.”

“Would you like me to go with you?” Elise asked, already halfway out of her chair.

“No!” Gandra said quickly. Then again, calmly, “No. Thank you, though. I’ll just be a minute.”

With that, she walked away from the table, leaving the two superheroes and doctor in silence.

“This… could be going better,” Gizmoduck said with a sigh.

*****

“This is the most boring spy mission we’ve ever been on,” Louie complained as he pulled off another part of the blooming onion. “All they’ve done so far is order appetizers and wine. Speaking of…” He lifted a hand and snapped his fingers to get the attention of a passing waiter. “ _Garçon_? We’ll take your finest vintage of Pep, please.”

The waiter sighed and walked away mumbling something about not getting paid enough.

“Well, it’s hard to do sneaky spy stuff on an empty stomach,” Webby pointed out. “Isn’t that why we ordered all these appetizers?”

“Yeah, sure, Pink, that’s why,” Lena said in a drawling voice as she dipped a mozzarella stick in marinara sauce.

“One does not want to be distracted by hunger pains in serious scenarios that require a great deal of concentration,” Violet added with a nod as she reached for a crab cake.

Suddenly, Huey gasped.

“Gandra’s leaving the table!” He exclaimed.

They all quickly grabbed the menus and obscured their faces as Gandra walked past, heading towards the restrooms. Webby noticed that Gandra pulled out her cellphone, scowled at it, then put it back in her pocket with a huff.

“Come on, now’s our chance,” Webby whispered, nudging Gosalyn in the side, urging her out of the booth.

“What, you want to follow her to the bathroom?” Gosalyn asked incredulously as she allowed Webby to drag her and Lena towards the restrooms.

“Clearly it’s code for something,” Webby insisted.

“Code for ‘clearly gonna get caught’,” Gosalyn pointed out.

“I’ve got an idea,” Lena said, grabbing two decorative seashells from a table. In her hands, a dark purple glow surrounded the shells. Lena didn’t stop moving the entire time.

As Gandra stepped into the restroom, Lena rolled one of the two shells in after her, the door closing.

“Now,” Lena said, waggling the remaining shell in her hand. “We can listen without a chance of being seen.”

*****

Gandra checked the stalls, making sure she was completely alone in the bathroom.

She grabbed the sink with her hands, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath.

She wished that she wasn’t feeling everything that she was.

Anger. Frustration. Hurt. Guilt. Scared.

Fenton had every right to not trust her.

But she wanted to talk to him. Needed to talk to him. Tonight was supposed to be a way for them to talk in private. For her to show her remorse. To apologize.

To ask for help.

Her phone buzzed again. She had been ignoring it most of the evening.

She knew who it was.

She couldn’t ignore it much longer. Not if she didn’t want company.

Gandra pulled out her phone and opened the video call.

“What do you want, Heron?” She demanded.

“Dee,” Black Heron responded curtly. “Good of you to finally answer.”

“I’m on a date,” Gandra said through gritted teeth.

“Hmm,” Black Heron said. “With Gizmoduck.”

“Yes, with Gizmoduck!” Gandra exclaimed. “Who else?”

“Watch the attitude, Dee,” Black Heron said warningly. “You’re already on thin ice with this mission of yours. Surely there is an easier way to get ahold of Gizmoduck’s schematics than what you’re playing at.”

“I’m doing this my way. It’s how I get results,” Gandra snapped, trying hard to shove down the feelings of guilt and fear. If anyone at F.O.W.L. knew what she was really doing… “What does it matter to you anyway?”

“It doesn’t matter to me whether you succeed or fail. You’re the one who insisted that this was urgent, a pressing matter that required your entire time and focus. But the director wants an update.”

“I ran into a problem,” Gandra admitted. “Darkwing Duck is here.”

“So? It’s not like you to let a buffoon like Darkwing Duck to get in your way of progress. Especially when progress is so desperately needed.”

Gandra scowled. “Tell the director that he’ll get an update when I have an update to give.”

“You better make that soon,” Black Heron said with a smirk. “The Director of F.O.W.L. may be known for playing a long game, but he definitely doesn’t have any patience for little novices like you.”

With that, the call ended.

Gandra angrily stuffed her phone in her pocket before whipping around to kick the trashcan in frustration.

She had to find a way to make her real mission a success tonight.

Or else she was doomed, in more ways than one.

*****

“Okay,” Gosalyn said softly from where she, Webby and Lena were huddled together under a table near the bathrooms, Gandra having walked past only seconds before. “So, Gandra’s definitely still spying…”

“But not for Beaks,” Lena said. “You ever heard of F.O.W.L.? What kind of company is that?”

“The Fiendish Organization for World Larceny.”

Both Gosalyn and Lena looked over at Webby, whose entire face was blank and she was shaking. But not with fear.

No, it was with an anger that neither girl had seen in the bubbly, ever-optimistic duckling.

Webby slowly got out from under the table and started walking, as if in a trance.

Gosalyn and Lena were behind her, but their eyes widened as Webby walked past their booth.

And towards Gandra Dee.

Something dark and dangerous flashed in Webby’s expression and she rushed forward, snatching something off a nearby table and leaping onto the table.

Elise gasped as the table shook, making her drop her wineglass, which shattered on the floor.

Darkwing jumped to his feet.

Gosalyn and Lena rushed in, too late.

Across the room, Donald’s blood ran cold and his face fell, eyes wide.

Daisy froze, food falling out of her hand.

“Webby?” Gizmoduck exclaimed in surprise.

Huey, Dewey, Louie and Violet could only watch in horror from the room’s entrance.

Gandra’s eyes only widened as she stared at the young duckling, holding a butter knife to her.

“YOU!” Webby practically screeched. “You’re a spy for F.O.W.L.!”

Gandra blinked and she leaned back in her chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She said, a hint of panic in her otherwise cool and calm demeanor.

Darkwing did a double-take as he took notice of the two other ducklings with Webby, both now trying to pull her off the table.

“Uh, sorry, random people we’ve never met before!” Gosalyn said as she fruitlessly pulled on Webby’s leg. “Our friend here gets a little crazy when she’s hangry and does stupid things like blowing our cover!”

“Cover?” Darkwing repeated, his eyes flashing darkly at his daughter, who was pointedly avoiding his gaze.

Lena laughed in an awkward way as she pulled on Webby’s arm. “Really, this is a whole misunderstanding. Come on—”

“This isn’t a misunderstanding!” Webby yelled, shaking off Lena. “You’re a spy for F.O.W.L, Gandra Dee! We heard you! You’re after Gizmoduck’s schematics! You are a spy!”

Terror filled Gandra’s entire face. “I don’t…” She said, her voice choking slightly. “I don’t know…”

“Is it true?” Gizmoduck asked, voice low and much calmer than anyone would have expected in the current situation.

Gandra’s wide-eyes turned to him and she gulped.

“Suit,” Gandra whispered, begging, pleading. “Just let me—”

Before she could say anything else, a loud BOOM resounded throughout the restaurant, shaking everything and everyone.

Everyone’s attention was suddenly on the thick cloud of red smoke that enveloped the demolished entrance.

“Well now,” Drawled a rough voice from within. “Look what we have here.”

Darkwing sucked in a quick gasp as his eyes widened as a figure dressed in yellow and red strode in through the smoke. “Negaduck,” Darkwing whispered, his hands going into fists.

But Negaduck wasn’t alone.

He was accompanied by a woman, dressed a tight, floor-length red gown. A gold belt hung around her waist, full of vials and beakers, each with a different colored liquid. Her dark hair was piled high on her head, and around her neck was a glinting ruby.

Negaduck grinned wickedly and said to the woman with him, “Seems like we’ve stumbled across a little party, Morgana. Too bad we’re gatecrashing.”

“Oh, no, we’re not gatecrashing, my dear,” Morgana responded, her fingers pulling out a vial. Her eyes glinted right before she hurled it across the restaurant. “We’re just fashionably late.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Thirty Minutes Previously…_

Della was almost ready to hurl the controller across the room.

“I don’t get it!” She complained. “Why didn’t she like the gift? It is the exact same thing I gave her last week! And why are there so many girls at this school who want to go home with me?”

“Go talk to your friend,” Launchpad encouraged as he grabbed another slice of pizza. “He’ll help you figure stuff out, like your popularity rankings. Maybe he’ll even have something for you to go on a date with, like movie tickets.”

“Why is that guy I rarely talk to in the game so invested in my dating life?” Della demanded.

“Dunno, but you can’t win the game without talking to him,” Launchpad said.

Della groaned and went to talk to the friend, who showed her the current popularity rankings.

On a one-to-ten scale, she was below five with all of the romanceable characters.

Della let out an enraged yell and hurled the controller at a chair before slinking down into the couch, her arms across her chest.

“This blows chunks,” She snapped. “Bad enough I can’t figure out relationships in real life, now I can’t even get them right in a stupid video game!”

Launchpad grabbed the controller and took over. “Things like this just need time and practice. You learn something from every relationship.”

“Just how many of these dating sims have you played?” Della asked irritably.

“A lot,” Launchpad said, tapping at the buttons. “But I’ve also had a lot of real-life relationships.”

Della huffed. “Well, I don’t think I learned anything from my real-life relationships. Don’t think I was in any of them long enough for there to be anything to learn.”

“But doesn’t knowing that mean that there is something you learned?” Launchpad asked as he selected a response in an in-game conversation. Della scowled as the anime girl tittered and brightened at whatever Launchpad had chosen.

“I don’t know. Maybe that I’m not meant to be in a relationship?”

“Do you _want_ to be in a relationship?”

“No,” Della admitted. “Not now. But maybe later? In the future?”

“Did you want to be in any of your past relationships?”

“Yes. No. Maybe?” Della sighed. “Like, all of them were great people, but I always broke it off when things got serious. I don’t… I don’t like the idea of being tied down. I need to be on the move, I need adventure, and I thrive in the unknown.”

“You’ve mentioned that before,” Launchpad responded, his tongue poking out between his beak in concentration. “You told me and Mr. McD that that was one of the reasons you took the Spear of Selene.”

“Yeah, and what a mess that was,” Della admitted. “Because I was a coward and afraid of becoming a mom. But now that’s all I want to be, you know? I want to be my kids’ mom. I want to have a relationship with them. I’m fully committed to that. I mean, I guess that’s different than dating someone, but still.”

She was quiet, watching Launchpad woo the 2-D girls on screen. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Go ahead and get it over with. Ask.”

“Ask Miki-Chan to go to the movies with me? Yeah, I think so.” Launchpad answered.

“No,” Della groaned. “Aren’t you going to ask me about the boys’ dad?”

Launchpad paused and turned to her. “Do you want me to ask about the boys’ dad?”

“Probably anyone else would by this point.”

“Why would anyone ask about that?”

“I don’t know… I mean, clearly, they have a dad. I’m a single mom. Three eggs didn’t just come from nowhere when you’re a single mom.”

“I figured as much,” Launchpad told her, handing her back the controller.

“I ended things with him before I knew I was expecting,” Della said, her eyes on the television as she spoke. “He… He doesn’t know. Maybe that sounds bad, but I think it was for the best. We met on a mountaineering expedition that Uncle Scrooge took me and Donald on. He worked for an adventuring company, and he was leading a group up the mountain. Our paths crossed, we ended up sharing camps. We found ourselves spending time together; we were the only ones who didn’t like stopping for the night. We talked way into the night, swapping stories. We were kindred spirits, always ready for adventure. Sparks flew, whatever. It quickly became physical. We had our fling, and it was what it was. But Uncle Scrooge didn’t like him. Called him ‘arrogant’, ‘self-centered egomaniac’, and ‘a danger to himself and others’. Donald didn’t like him either.”

“That why you broke off?” Launchpad asked. “Because Mr. McD and Donald didn’t like him? Offer to help her carry those handouts to the classroom.”

“Got it,” Della said, selecting the response. “No. I was defending him most of the time. But he… he was a huge risk taker. And that’s coming from me. He was willing to put his group in danger, taking a whole bunch of moderately experienced climbers on a longer, harder path because he thought it was more ‘fun’. Even though we had been warned that the area wasn’t stable. And it wasn’t. Uncle Scrooge didn’t want to take that path, but he was certain that this group would get themselves killed otherwise. And Uncle Scrooge was right. If he hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t thought quickly and acted, that entire group would have been lost. As it was, people got hurt. No one died, but it came close.

“And this guy didn’t even care. He was angry with Uncle Scrooge, saying he was interfering and sticking his beak where it didn’t belong. Was so insistent that they could have managed without Uncle Scrooge, that nothing would have gone wrong if we hadn’t come. We lost so much time, and supplies, and we had to turn around. None of us would have survived the rest of the trip up, or down, if Scrooge hadn’t made everyone turn around after that. At least all of the members of the hiking group realized that Scrooge did, in fact, save their lives. They were a lot less likely to listen to their leader after that. Let’s just say, it was a tense trip down the mountains. Especially since I sided with Uncle Scrooge. Especially since I didn’t take his offer to continue up the mountain with him. It’s the only adventure I’ve ever willingly turned down, and the only one I don’t regret choosing not to take. He… called me some unflattering things. And that was the last time we spoke.

“And, well, got off the mountain, came back to Duckburg, started feeling weird, found out I was carrying eggs, and that’s about it. I thought Uncle Scrooge would be angry, since it was pretty easy to know who the father was. But he and Donald were so supportive. Told me that if I wanted him to know, if I wanted him in the kids’ lives, heck, if I wanted to marry him, they’d support me. But they’d also support me if I didn’t. And I realized I didn’t need that guy. Didn’t want him and his version of adventure. I wanted the boys to be surrounded by people who loved them, and I wanted them to have a healthy love of adventure, and how to do it right. Safely. With people who support you, and being part of a unit.”

“I think you made a good choice,” Launchpad told her.

“Yeah, well, it was obviously the right one to take Momo-Chan to the nurse’s office,” Della said, her focus on the game. “She can’t get there on her own with that sprained ankle. Don’t see anyone else rushing to help.”

“No, I meant, with the boys’ dad,” Launchpad said. “He wasn’t right for you. Or for the boys. It sounds like a lot of these relationships may not have been good for you. Either of you. I don’t think you’re bad with relationships, Della. Sounds like you’ve used each one to learn about what’s healthy and what’s not, what you want in a relationship and where your boundaries are.”

Della turned to look at him, and he smiled at her. “You’re gonna find the right person for you. Someday. When you’re ready.”

Della smiled and turned back to the screen. “For now, I’ll keep practicing with this.” She directed the main character back to the friend, who displayed the popularity ratings. “Hah! Look at that! My popularity has gone up with all of the characters! I think I’m starting to get the hang of this!”

“Della.”

“Yeah, Launchpad?” Della said, distracted. “Oh, yeah, Momo-Chan, we can definitely go out for ice cream!”

“Della.”

“What?”

“Della.”

Della paused and looked at Launchpad, who suddenly had this mildly-terrified look on his face.

“Uh, you good, LP?” Della asked.

Launchpad met her eyes and asked, “Where are the kids?”

Della’s brow furrowed. “Uh, upstairs? Like they’ve been all evening?”

“How sure are we about that?” Launchpad asked.

The way he said that made her blood run cold.

She dropped the controller and they both ran out of the television room and up the stairs at a breakneck speed.

*****

_Present_

As the vial of unknown liquid arched in the air, Lena gasped and threw her hands forward, creating a protective barrier just behind her sister and the triplets, who all dove to the ground further into the room.

The vial hit the barrier and rebounded, exploding.

They were safe, but without another exit they were trapped.

“Good thinking,” Darkwing praised. “How long can that hold for?”

“I don’t know,” Lena admitted, keeping her arms outstretched. “As long as I concentrate, if they don’t break it down first. Don’t know what else they may have in their bag of tricks.”

Donald, eyes blazing, was already pushing up his sleeves, his infamous anger showing.

“Take it down, let me—” He started to say, but Gizmoduck grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“Are you crazy?” Gizmoduck demanded. “They’ve got bombs, and chainsaws, and—”

“Mutant lobsters!” Louie exclaimed.

“And mutant lobsters!” Gizmoduck said. Then, “Wait, mutant lobsters?”

They watched in horror as Morgana dripped her potions over the freed lobsters, which were starting to grow.

“Noooooo!” Dewey wailed as one started to hit the barrier with its claw. “Dewbster Number Four, how could you betray me like this?”

“Who is that woman with Negaduck? And why is she with him?” Gosalyn asked.

“I believe Negaduck said her name was Morgana?” Violet offered.

Elise’s brow furrowed, then her eyes widened with realization. “Oh my gosh… That’s Morgana McCawber!”

“Who?” Came the chorused question around the room.

“Morgana McCawber!” Elise said. “You know, Perila Creeper? From that show in the nineties, _The Creepers_? May or may not have played a large role in figuring out I’m a lesbian? Which makes this really awkward now,” Elise conceded, tilting her head slightly as Morgana led the mutant lobsters to attack the barrier. “You know. Given the current situation.”

“I’ll raise you one,” Darkwing said, wincing as Negaduck attacked Lena’s barrier with a chainsaw. “The man who not only played a large role in my childhood, influenced me down two very different career paths, and is partially responsible for my bisexual awakening is currently on go number three of trying to kill me with a chainsaw. Like, legitimately right now!”

Elise glanced at the chainsaw wielding maniac, then back at Darkwing, saying flatly yet sympathetically, “That’s rough, buddy.”

Daisy—who had been rushing around the room gathering all the steak knives she could find—practically threw all of the knives onto the table. “Okay. Weapons. We’ve got Gizmoduck’s suit, obviously, and I found a bunch of knives. What else?”

“My gas gun,” Darkwing said. “Webby, what did you bring?”

“Everything we brought is in our backpacks, which are on the other side of the barrier,” Huey answered, Webby still glaring down Gandra.

“Great. Just great.” Gizmoduck said. He scanned the back wall using his visor. “Without being able to assess how much structural damage Negaduck and Morgana have caused already, I don’t want to break down the wall to get the kids out.”

He met Darkwing’s gaze, and the two of them nodded.

“Lena,” Gizmoduck said. “When I give the signal, you drop the barrier. And once Darkwing and I are through, you put it back up. Do not bring it down again until it is safe to do so. Clear?”

Lena nodded, resolutely yet with a hint of fear.

“Wait!” Gosalyn said, grabbing hold of Darkwing’s cape. “Let us—”

“No!” Darkwing said sharply, scowling down at her before he hissed, “You’re in enough trouble as is, missy.”

Gosalyn let go of Darkwing’s cape, but with a scowl. Darkwing gently put his hand on her head, ruffling her hair.

“Stick with Elise,” He told her. Then Darkwing looked up at the still-furious Donald. “I don’t think I need to tell you to protect the kids.”

“No,” Donald said, practically growling. “You do not.”

Darkwing nodded, then he and Gizmoduck exchanged a look.

“Let’s get dangerous,” Darkwing said with a determined nod.

Gizmoduck returned the nod.

Then they both charged the barrier.

“Now!” Gizmoduck called.

Lena quickly abolished the barrier, allowing Gizmoduck and Darkwing to enter the chaotic fray…

Gizmoduck hadn’t launched his first pie when he exclaimed, “Gandra? What are you doing?”

“Frying seafood!” Was her response as she jumped on the back of a lobster, pressing her electricity-charged hands to the creature’s thick exoskeleton. It wasn’t enough to hurt it, but it was enough to distract it.

At the same time, Darkwing yelled, “Donald! What the heck? I told you to stay with the kids!”

“No,” Donald yelled as he landed a punch on a mutated crab. “You told me to _protect_ the kids, and that’s what I’m doing!”

Darkwing let out a small growl, but turned his attention to where the sound of a revving chainsaw was coming from.

Darkwing straightened his shoulders, narrowing his eyes at Negaduck.

“I don’t want to fight you, Mr. Starling,” He told him.

Negaduck’s eyes gleamed as he smiled, cruel and sharp and just as deadly as the tool in his hand. “Good. That’ll make this easy.”

*****

Fighting back to back with Gandra Dee against magically mutated lobsters was not how Gizmoduck had thought this night was going to go. He did, however, know instinctively that Gandra fighting alongside him was the more surprising part of this mess.

“Are you a spy?” Gizmoduck asked Gandra as he used a laser to try and take down a lobster, scowling when the magically enhanced shell seemed to be blocking most of their attacks.

“Seriously, Suit?” Gandra demanded as she used her nanites to attack a lobster by grabbing hold of its antenna, which seemed to make it recoil and retreat somewhat at being electrically shocked. “You want to talk about this now?”

“Well, I’m not asking because I’m in need of light dinner conversation!” Gizmoduck snapped, hurling a pie at another lobster, who mostly just seemed confused.

“Gizmoduck!” Gandra exclaimed. “Nine o’clock!”

He glanced in the direction she called out, then quickly reached behind him to scoop her up and get out of the way of the vial that was hurled at them by Morgana.

Gizmoduck set Gandra on a still-standing table, and she went over to the wall, pulling at a piece of sheet metal that had artistically been cut into the shape of a crab.

“Did you have to bring Darkwing Duck tonight?” Gandra demanded.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about this now!” Gizmoduck retorted as he punched a magically animated fake shark in the snout.

“Never said that!” Gandra said as she started cutting the piece of décor into strips using a tool she pulled from a hidden pocket in her dress. “If you hadn’t brought Darkwing along tonight, we wouldn’t be having this conversation this way.”

Gizmoduck paused and turned to look at her incredulously. “Wait, are you blaming me or Darkwing for this?”

“Yes,” Gandra said. “No. I don’t know, okay!”

“Are you a spy or not?” Gizmoduck demanded as he went back to punching and otherwise fending off the mutant lobsters.

“It’s complicated!” Gandra yelled, grabbing one of the strips of metal in her hands like a spear and electrifying the metal to hit the lobsters.

“It’s a yes-no question!” Gizmoduck exclaimed.

“Then, fine, yes! I am a spy for F.O.W.L!” Gandra admitted, angrily hitting the lobsters, piercing through the shell of one, making it retreat. “But I need you to hear me out!”

“I don’t need to—” Gizmoduck started to say, only to cut himself off by grabbing Gandra and pulling her off the table, getting away before a light fixture fell on them.

“I didn’t come here tonight or to the auction on orders!” Gandra declared as he set her down again and she picked up the broken pieces of a chair to turn into weapons. “I came on my own free will!”

“Yeah, for my schematics!” Gizmoduck snapped. “And what are you going to do with them?”

“Nothing!” Gandra exclaimed, sounding frustrated. Her eyes widened and she thrust the leg of the chair into Gizmoduck’s hands. “Donald!”

Gizmoduck didn’t hesitate when he saw what she did. He simply hurled the chair leg at Morgana, who was about to attack Donald from behind. The chair leg hit her arm, sending her spinning and falling to her knees and clutching her shoulder. She released her shoulder, her hand stained red with her blood.

Morgana looked up to glare at Gizmoduck.

“Oh, is that how you want it to be?” She said, her eyes hard as she reached up for her pendant with her blood-covered hand. “Good.”

Still on the ground, she thrust her arms out and a ring of fire began to circle Gizmoduck and Gandra, trapping them.

*****

Darkwing kicked and swung and dodged and blocked. Jim Starling fought him with a ferocity that he had expected, but it was the old actor’s calm that disturbed him.

Darkwing tried to use that to his advantage. If he was calm, then he could be reasoned with.

“Mr. Starling,” He said. “Jim. This isn’t you! You’re not a villain! You’re a hero!”

“ _Was_ ,” Negaduck snarled. “ _Was_ a hero. You took that from me.”

“I didn’t take anything from you!” Darkwing insisted.

Eyes blazing, Negaduck threw an unexpected punch to Darkwing’s gut, knocking the wind out of him. Stumbling backwards, Darkwing felt himself trip over a piece of debris, landing roughly on the ground. Before he could get up, Negaduck’s foot pressed down on his chest.

“You didn’t steal my name, my glory, my entire reason for being?” Negaduck demanded, sneering down at Darkwing.

“I didn’t!” Darkwing insisted. “You still have a chance, you can stop all of this and be a hero again! You are the original Darkwing Duck, and no one can take that from you!”

For one moment, Darkwing could have sworn there was something softened in Negaduck’s eyes.

Darkwing couldn’t believe it. Was he getting through to Jim Starling?

Quick as a flash, he realized how wrong he was.

Quick as a flash, Negaduck had moved, seizing Darkwing’s wrist, pinning Darkwing’s arm to the floor.

Quick as a flash, there was a knife cutting into Darkwing’s arm.

Darkwing couldn’t hold back the scream, couldn’t move, practically paralyzed from the pain and the suddenness of it, and the heart-wrenching scream he heard—distant, but discernable.

Gosalyn.

“Morgs!” Negaduck called over his shoulder.

Morgana was there in an instant, pulling off the Blood Ruby pendant from around her neck. With a sickening squelch, Negaduck pulled the knife out of Darkwing’s arm, only for him to howl in pain again as Morgana pushed the Blood Ruby into the wound.

“You took everything from me,” Negaduck spat, leaning close to hiss in Darkwing’s face. “For too long, the world shoved us aside. Forgot about us. Took what they wanted and then left us with the pieces.”

Morgana put the necklace back around her neck, smiling as she declared, “But that’s going to change. The world is going to know us. Remember us. Fear us. We are going to be center stage once more.”

Morgana looked down at her hands, rubbing her thumbs over her fingertips. Her eyes glinted as she stood up.

“It’s show-time for us.” She told Darkwing. “And curtain call for you.”

*****

“No!” Gosalyn howled, pounding on Lena’s barrier. Snarling, she whirled around, yelling, “Take it down!”

“I can’t!” Lena insisted. “Gizmoduck said—”

“I don’t care what Gizmoduck said!” Gosalyn yelled. “Take it down!”

“If I take the barrier down, I can’t fight Morgana!” Lena yelled at her. “I’m the only one here with magic, and I’ve used too much of it to keep this barrier up! I take it down, I can’t fight her!”

Gosalyn let out a yell of rage and kicked the barrier before pounding her fists on it once more.

Her dad was in danger. He was bleeding out. He was stabbed in the arm—his dominant arm. Negaduck and Morgana were going to kill him, and Gizmoduck and Gandra were trying to escape the fire, and Donald was fighting the magically mutant lobsters, and she was stuck in this stupid bubble.

“Lena, if you lowered the barrier, could you at least use enough magic to put out the fire?” Daisy asked, her hands also pressed to the barrier.

“Maybe?” Lena said, her voice shaky from processing the suggestion and the effort to keep the barrier up hit after hit.

“What if we lent you strength, amplified your magic?” Violet asked.

“Yeah, we’ve done that before!” Dewey added with a nod.

“Yeah,” Lena said, sounding more confident. “Move back from the barrier!”

Elise grabbed a still-fighting Gosalyn around the waist, pulling her back as Daisy rushed back.

Lena dropped the barrier…

And instantly, Morgana turned towards them.

“Little sorceress,” She cooed. “Do you really think your powers are a match for the Blood Ruby? Not even Magica de Spell can fight the intensity of the magic within the Blood Ruby!”

“Uh, maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all,” Louie said warily.

Fortunately—or, perhaps unfortunately—Morgana quickly became distracted.

By a limo being driven into the ruined restaurant, running over the lobster Donald was fighting. Donald let out a squawk and scrambled back to avoid being hit.

“Hey, what’s the big idea?” Donald yelled, shaking a fist at the car. “Watch where you’re driving that thing, you big palooka!”

Immediately, the front doors opened, and Launchpad and Della leapt out of the limo.

Della, eyes full of fury, pointed across the destroyed restaurant and yelled, “You kids are in _so_ much trouble when you get home!”

“We’re kind of in a lot of trouble right now!” Huey yelled back as he hurled a brick at the animated shark decoration that was heading towards them.

“You better believe it, mister!” Della yelled as she joined Launchpad in taking on another lobster. “Ugh, fish! Why did it have to be fish?”

“Lobsters are not fish!” Violet informed her.

“It’s close enough!” Della yelled back. “Just wait till your father gets here!”

“Vi, which one should we be hoping for?” Lena asked as her sister and Webby grabbed her wrists to help her summon enough water magic to put out the fire.

“At this point, encountering either one is undoubtedly to be an unpleasant experience,” Violet responded.

By this point, Daisy had charged into the fray, steak knives in her hands, rushing to Donald’s side, the two of them taking on a lobster that was about to get Launchpad from behind.

As soon as there was a clear path, Gizmoduck emerged from the ring of fire, charging Negaduck and Morgana, hurling pies, the two villains taking steps backwards away from the incoming fire.

Negaduck suddenly seized Morgana’s wrist. “We got what we came for.”

Morgana flinched and frowned. “But Jim—”

He moved his hand down to squeeze her fingers. “It’s not retreating when we have the upper hand, toots.”

Morgana’s expression became resolved, and she nodded with understanding.

Negaduck reached into a pocket in his coat and pulled out a small object, throwing it on the ground in front of them.

The already smoke-filled restaurant clouded with red smoke and Gizmoduck forced his wheel to go faster through it.

But he emerged from the other side empty handed.

There was no sign of Negaduck and Morgana.

But, perhaps miraculously, there was several flashes of light and the mutated lobsters shrank suddenly to their original size and the stuffed shark flopped over onto its side limply.

“Heh,” Donald said with a slight smile as one of the lobsters crawled around on the floor in front of him. “Not so tough now, are—WAK!” Donald suddenly made a series of enraged noises and kicked his foot out, attempting to dislodge the lobster that had pinched his claw. The noises didn’t stop even as the lobster flew across the room, and unfortunately now had an echo as the lobster landed on Della, who was trying to remove the lobster from her head.

While Dewey and Louie rushed forward to help their mother—and, perhaps, alleviate some of her anger towards them—Daisy placed her hand on Donald’s shoulder and he froze, turning to look at her with wide eyes.

Daisy gently took his wrists, tutting over all of the cuts and forming bruises on his knuckles. “We need to get these cleaned up,” She said. She looked up at Donald, her eyes soft. “Are you in any pain?”

Donald’s cheeks flushed pink. “Uh, no. I’m fine.”

“Except for the fact that you’re all scratched up,” Daisy said, lifting his limp hand as emphasis.

Flashing red and blue lights illuminated the scene, and there was the sound of the police sirens. A team of cops entered the building, guns drawn, led by a very angry Captain Raymond Sabrewing, the anger in his eyes decreasing only slightly as he laid eyes on his daughters, Violet giving him a small wave.

“What the devil happened here?” Detective Rosa Cabrera demanded, looking around at the chaos.

At that moment, a light fixture chose that moment to fall from the ceiling, landing on the hood of the limo, sending the alarm blaring and the headlights flashing as the hood crumpled.

“Ah,” Launchpad said, nodding slightly. “There’s the crash…”

Meanwhile, Elise and Gosalyn had rushed to Darkwing’s side, where he had forced himself to sit up, holding his arm to his chest. He hissed slightly as Elise touched his arm, but he allowed her to pull it out so she could press several of the linen napkins she had grabbed to the injury.

“Dad,” Gosalyn said, unable to say anything else, her heart breaking as Darkwing refused to even look at her. She swallowed. Was he that angry at her?

“We need to get you to the hospital,” Elise told Darkwing.

“Better make it the Money Bin,” Gizmoduck told her as he passed by, heading straight for Gandra, who had made it out from the now-extinguished ring of fire unscathed, albeit covered in quite a bit of soot and dust. She was brushing off the skirt of her dress and she looked up at Gizmoduck, straightening her shoulders.

“Let me guess,” She said. “You’re going to hand me over to the authorities.”

“No,” Gizmoduck said, voice flat. “I’m taking you to the Money Bin, and finally going to get some straight answers from you.”

Gandra only blinked and nodded, wordlessly holding her wrists out in front of her to allow Gizmoduck to take her into custody.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note: I did want to go ahead and say that, while there will be references to S3 in the stories from here (for the most part, subtle references until we're further away from 'spoiler' territory), this is also a bit of a self-contained universe. The Sabrewing dads are going to remain a bird named Kevin and a dog named Raymond, Daisy's going to be a reporter instead of a personal assistant, and obviously how Drake, Gos and LP become a family is very different since it hasn't even happened in the show yet. And, now, Gandra's involvement in the series is going to be different than the show--though hopefully it will also have some influences from canon.
> 
> That's all! Thanks for reading!

“You know, Drake, when I asked you to give it a while before we used this place, I did kind of mean more than a day or two,” Elise said as she dabbed iodine on Drake’s outstretched arm.

From where he laid on the table, Drake let out a grunt, his foot twitching slightly, his good arm draped over his face. He was wearing only the teal undershirt of his costume and his mask, the ruined jacket and gloves tossed to the side and his left sleeve rolled up for Elise to work. He wasn’t quite sure where his hat had ended up in all of this and didn’t exactly care.

Gosalyn stood on her toes on the other side of the table, hovering for all intents and purposes. She had been hovering on the entire drive to the Money Bin, and the entire time they had been there. “Elise, is Dad going to be okay?”

“He should be,” Elise responded as she threaded a needle with suture thread. “He hasn’t lost too much blood, and he can move all of his fingers. So long as he doesn’t pop his stitches doing something stupid, he should be fine.”

“He doesn’t like being talked about like he’s not even in the room,” Drake snapped, lowering his arm briefly to glare at Elise.

“Of course we know you’re in the room,” Elise said. “You’re like a centerpiece. You’re in the middle of my table and an amazing conversation starter. Mostly about how obnoxious you are, but you get the drift.”

Drake let out another grunt and covered his face with his arm again. He let out a hiss as Elise started on the stitches.

Gosalyn gently put her hand on Drake’s elbow. “Dad, it’s going to—”

“Gosalyn, go find Mr. McDuck or Launchpad or… anyone else, really,” Drake said sharply. “Just… Just go away.”

Gosalyn pulled back her hand, her eyes a bit teary before she scowled and snapped, “Fine! I don’t want to be around you when you’re in a mood like this anyway!”

After she had stomped off, Elise sighed and flicked Drake’s beak with the back of her gloved hand.

“Hey!” He growled at her, moving his arm to glare at her.

“Listen here, Drake Mallard,” Elise said sternly, returning to her work. “I don’t care if you’re angry. I don’t care if part of this is you being mad at her for sneaking out. I don’t care about this little snit you’re in over having lost to Negaduck. I don’t care if you take your anger out on me. But you can’t take it out on Gosalyn. You hear me?”

“I got _stabbed_ ,” Drake groused. “I’m in _pain_. I’m going to be cranky.”

“One, you turned down pain killers and wouldn’t let me numb your arm—”

“I want a clear head when Gandra Dee is interrogated, and you know how those mess me up,” Drake argued.

Elise scowled down at him. “Two,” She said sharply, tugging on the needle in her hand with a little more strength than perhaps necessary. “Your daughter is worried sick about you. She watched you get stabbed tonight, and you haven’t spoken a civil word to her since.”

Drake was silent for a moment, staring at the ceiling, then mumbled, “I’ll apologize to her after I’ve cooled my temper a bit.”

“Good,” Elise said as she tied off the suture. She glanced at her friend as she wrapped the wound in clean gauze. “It really scared Gosalyn. Watching you get stabbed. But I think it scared you, too. Knowing she was watching.”

Drake didn’t respond to that. He didn’t get much of a chance to, either, as there was the sound of knocking on the door. Well, it wasn’t exactly knocking as much as it was clopping.

Drake pushed himself up on his arm and Elise turned as they looked at Manny the Headless Man Horse who clopped his hooves together.

“Mrs. Beakley is here. The interrogation is about to begin.”

*****

“And you’re grounded till you’re twenty!” Della was yelling as she paced back and forth. “No, forty!”

“There will be no reading for fun,” Kevin Sabrewing said severely to his daughters, his arms folded over his chest. Violet’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped in horror.

“Don’t know what you were thinking!” Della yelled. “Oh, wait, you weren’t!”

“Your father and I are highly disappointed in your behavior this evening,” Raymond said, frowning at his daughters.

“Scared the pants off of me and Launchpad!” Della shouted, waving a fist in the air.

“Wait, how exactly did you and Launchpad find us?” Dewey asked.

“Because apparently Launchpad has some freaky sixth sense for whenever you or Gosalyn are in trouble, and it was apparently going haywire!” Della said. She shuddered. “I don’t want to talk about the drive to get to the restaurant. It’s taken five years off my life. It wasn’t ‘on the moon for ten years’ bad, but it was most definitely not great.”

“Oh, yeah,” Launchpad said, turning sheepishly to Scrooge McDuck. “There might be some traffic tickets… Like, a lot more than usual.”

“So many red lights…” Della said, shaking her head with her palm to her forehead.

“And the fence.” Launchpad said.

“And the hot-dog cart,” Della said.

“And that mime…” Launchpad said.

“Wait, did you hit a mime?” Gosalyn asked.

“No, but we did destroy his vow of silence,” Della said. “He was using some pretty strong French words, if you get my meaning.”

“And I ran a stop-sign.” Launchpad said. “That might actually be more of a problem.”

“Aside from the points violation, how is that _more_ of a problem?” Rosa Cabrera asked.

“Because I _ran_ a stop-sign.” Launchpad said.

“Launchpad,” Darkwing said with a sigh as he entered the room, leaning slightly on Elise. “Running a stop-sign and running _over_ a stop-sign are two different things.”

“I don’t see how one word should make that much of a difference,” Launchpad told him as he came over to Darkwing’s side, taking Elise’s place as Darkwing’s crutch and leading him to a chair.

Daisy paused in her bandaging of Donald’s hands and looked up. “Is this why car insurance rates are so high in this city?”

“Yep,” Donald said with a nod.

“Hang on, guys, I think I can help us out a little here,” Louie whispered in an undertone to his friends.

“You’re just going to make it worse,” Lena hissed.

“No, just watch, okay?” Louie said. He cleared his throat. “Mom, Uncle Donald, Uncle Scrooge, Captain and Professor Sabrewing, Launchpad, Darkwing, we know you’re all very mad at us—and have every right to be! We will gladly accept whatever punishment you deem fit. We only ask that you consider one thing before you decide our fate.” He took a deep breath and then pointed across the room. “That the only reason we snuck out was because we didn’t trust Gandra Dee and, _what?_ Turns out we were right not to trust her because she’s a spy for F.O.W.L and wants the Gizmoduck armor? No one would have ever found that out if it weren’t for us tonight! So really we are the heroes and you should be thanking us for our service to Duckburg, and just remember that she’s the real bad guy here, not us!”

“Wow,” Gandra said, drawing out the vowel. “You’re officially my least favorite person in the world now, kid. You don’t know just how much work those other people put in for you to so effortlessly crush them. You know, I’m actually impressed by that.”

“Gandra, I think it would be in your best interest to keep your mouth shut until we’re ready for you to speak,” Fenton said sharply from across the lab, where he was hunched over a project at a table, his back to everyone.

There was an extra level of tension in the room that was practically palpable. Neither Gandra nor Fenton had spoken since they had arrived in the underwater lab of the Money Bin. Gandra had been handcuffed to a chair and heavily guarded, while Fenton had shut out everyone and was working on… well, no one was quite sure. They weren’t even sure that Fenton knew; he just needed something to occupy his hands and mind.

“Yes, he’s right, you shouldn’t speak until I’ve got you hooked up to this!” Gyro Gearloose said, holding up a… something.

“And, what is that, exactly?” Elise asked.

“The Gearloose Pants-On-Fire Three-Thousand!” Gyro said, grinning wickedly. “An unflappable, uncheatable, hyper-sensitive lie detector that will literally set a person’s pants on fire if they tell even the smallest of fibs!”

Huey raised his hand. “Question: what if the person doesn’t wear pants? Follow up question: if pants are required, does the machine also provide a pair of pants for the subject to wear? Follow up follow up question: how would the machine know the right size pants needed? Follow up follow up follow up question—”

“Gyro,” Scrooge said patiently, interrupting his nephew. “Has this been tested?”

Gyro froze and glanced down at the machine in his hands, then up at his boss and said, “Tested in the past tense or…?”

“Gyro,” Scrooge said, still patiently but with a slightly shaper edge. “I think for tonight we’ll just use what Mrs. Beakley has brought us. This method is a little more ‘tried and true’.”

“Indeed,” Mrs. Beakley said as she entered the room, carrying something in a large carved box. Her eyes flashed at Gandra and said, “This method’s past success rates with F.O.W.L agents is unparalleled.”

Webby sat up straighter in her chair. “Granny, I—”

“Webbigail, we will discuss this matter—and your behavior this evening—later,” Mrs. Beakley said as she set the box on a table. With that, Webby sank into her seat, making herself small, looking at her feet.

Scrooge pulled out a key from his pocket and turned the lock on the box, pulling out two gold bracelets, shaped like coiled snakes with glowing ruby eyes.

“Detective Cabrera,” Scrooge said. “If you would be so kind as to unlock our guest?”

Rosa nodded, pulling out her handcuff key and uncuffing Gandra.

“Give me your hands, lass,” Scrooge said.

Gandra hesitated, drawing her hands close to her body. “Are those—?”

“The Cobras of Botswana. Yes,” Scrooge said, nodding. “I am assuming you know how they work, then?”

Gandra swallowed and nodded. “Every time the wearer tells a lie, the snakes come alive and go up the arms. The wearer gets two lies as a warning. On the third lie, the cobras bite and kill.”

“Correct.” Scrooge said. “Now see here, Miss Dee. I am a reasonable man; I will not allow the snakes to bite you. I can assure you that no one in this room will harm or allow you to be harmed. But I will not tolerate lies, either, and there will be repercussions. Understood?”

Gandra nodded, and extended her hands towards Scrooge McDuck.

Scrooge slipped the bracelets on each of Gandra’s wrists. She flinched slightly as the loose snakes suddenly coiled tightly, the red eyes flashing.

“Good girl,” Scrooge said with a nod. He put his arms behind his back, his eyes turning steely as he stared down at her. “Let us begin. Is your real, legal name Gandra Dee?”

“Gandra Miriam Dee. Yes.”

“And are you currently an operative for the Fiendish Organization for World Larceny, better known as F.O.W.L?”

Gandra hesitated and said, “Yes.”

“How long have you been associated with F.O.W.L?” Mrs. Beakley asked.

“Since I was fifteen,” Gandra answered. “So, about ten years now.”

“What does F.O.W.L want with Gizmoduck’s schematics?” Gyro demanded.

“I… may have told the director of F.O.W.L that I could make something similar for F.O.W.L’s use,” Gandra said. “But I had no intention of actually following through. That’s not my real mission.”

“Your actions say otherwise,” Rosa declared. “The bachelor auction, tonight… all part of a plan to get close to Gizmoduck. What other reason would you have to put together a con plan like this?”

Louie’s eyes suddenly widened and he leaned forward in his chair, gripping the seat between his legs. “Because she’s not conning Fenton! She’s conning F.O.W.L!”

“How so?” Raymond asked, eyeing Gandra.

“Think about it,” Louie said. “This scheme would have only worked if Gandra and Fenton had never previously met. The bachelor auction, the dinner date… Fenton would never have had a reason to doubt her or be on his guard. We all knew that the bachelor auction date was supposed to be a one-and-done deal. If Fenton never saw her again, then he wouldn’t have thought anything of it.”

“Plus, Gandra’s a scientist, and works with robotics,” Huey added. “She wouldn’t need Gizmoduck’s blueprints to recreate the suit; she’d use her own tech and designs.”

“Excellent points, boys,” Mrs. Beakley said, studying Gandra. “F.O.W.L doesn’t know that you previously met Fenton both in and out of the Gizmoduck armor, then?”

“Huh, look at that, you managed to redeem yourself somewhat, kid,” Gandra said to Louie, relaxing somewhat in her seat. “You’re right. My work with Beaks was freelance. F.O.W.L high command doesn’t care about my freelance work, and I never had a reason to let them or anyone else know what I was doing. So, yes, they believed that I was encountering Gizmoduck for the first time solely to get the schematics. I made the plan. The money I used at the bachelor auction is, admittedly, from F.O.W.L, but it’s all from the budget they give me to maintain my lab and they don’t care what I spend it on. Otherwise, they had no part in it.”

“So if it’s not the blueprints you’re after,” Della said. “What is?”

“Whatever it is, Darkwing and I derailed her plans to get it by being at the date tonight,” Elise commented.

“Wait,” Darkwing said, holding up his good hand, frowning at Gandra. “Fenton said that you told him after the auction that you weren’t bidding on Gizmoduck. You were bidding on Fenton.”

“Correct,” Gandra said. She looked past everyone else to where Fenton was still hunched over his project, sparks flying from whatever he was working on. “I just wanted to talk.”

If Fenton realized that this was aimed at him, he did not acknowledge it other than by sharply slamming a tool down.

“If you break anything, it’s coming out of your paycheck.” Gyro called to him.

“You don’t pay me at all!” Fenton snapped back as he whirled around, throwing his arms in the air. “If you wanted to talk, you’ve had plenty of opportunities! What, just what, could be so important that you had to put together an entire elaborate and very expensive scheme just to talk?”

“I want out.”

The entire room went silent at those three words.

The snakes on her wrists did not move even a smidge.

Gandra’s shoulders slumped as she looked down at her feet. “I want to get out of F.O.W.L.”

Mrs. Beakley shifted her stance, going from ready-to-brawl to a somewhat more relaxed position. “F.O.W.L. doesn’t operate that way. Their agents agree to a lifetime commitment. There is no retirement, there is no ‘getting out’, there is no change of heart.” She said calmly and coolly, but her look was one of near pity as she studied Gandra. “You either die a loyal agent to F.O.W.L, or you die a traitor—and at a much faster rate.”

“I’m aware of that,” Gandra said softly. “But I want out. And I figured that, if anyone could help me, it’d be Fenton.” She sighed. “Look, I’ve been with F.O.W.L a long time. It’s been my life for a long time. F.O.W.L found me when I was a runaway foster kid who had just gotten kicked out of her third high school in two years for getting too adventurous in the science lab on top of being a disciplinary nightmare. F.O.W.L. gave me a home. They said that they had a place for me, that I’d be a perfect fit. They gave me a lab, and funding, and let me do whatever I wanted on top of a free place to stay, food, and whatever else I needed. It was like a dream come true. It was paradise after all the hell I’d been through.

“F.O.W.L and the people who are a part of it were the first to accept me who I am, and didn’t think I was a problem child or a weirdo or a danger to society. The first to not treat me like I was wasting space or a solution to a problem. Who respected me, and told me I was brilliant, and _wanted_ me around. And I didn’t think I’d meet anyone else like that, until I met you, Fenton.”

“Which you’ve repaid by betraying him. Twice,” Webby said, narrowing her eyes at Gandra. “Once to Mark Beaks, and once by telling F.O.W.L you could get your hands on the schematics.”

“But I wasn’t actually going to give them the schematics!” Gandra argued.

“It is the principle of the thing!” Webby yelled, getting on her feet on top of her chair, her hands on her hips.

“There is also the matter of putting Fenton in danger by asking for assistance in leaving F.O.W.L,” Mrs. Beakley said. She sighed in frustration as she looked over at Scrooge, who grimaced. “And now we all are in danger. Now that we know your intentions.”

“This wasn’t the plan,” Gandra insisted. “It was just supposed to be me and Fenton having this conversation. No one else was supposed to get involved.”

Rosa spat out a stream of Spanish that made Gosalyn wince, Violet raise her eyebrows some in surprise, and Kevin snap, “Language, Rosa.”

“What did she say?” Dewey asked in a whisper to Gosalyn and Violet.

“Look, we’re in enough trouble with our dads without translating _that_ to English,” Gosalyn whispered back, and Violet nodded in agreement.

“Selfish!” Rosa snapped at Gandra. “Selfish, selfish girl! You don’t care how your wants, how your choices impact other people so long as you get what you want, to the point of denying others their own choices!”

“There was always a choice!” Gandra argued. “I just wanted to present my case! Fenton can make his own choices!”

“Yeah, and the self-sacrificing idiot with a noble heart of gold would have chosen to help you and you knew it, _spy_ ,” Gryo pointed out, folding his arms over his chest. “Helping people is like, I don’t know, crack or something to him. Whatever. Which, if you think about it, is how this all started with his crackpot idea to use the Gizmosuit for something other than its intended purpose. So, really, we are all in this mess because of—” Rosa spun around to glare at him and Gyro leaned back and said quickly, “Uh, because of circumstances beyond anyone’s control.”

“Wait, Dr. Gearloose, what _was_ the Gizmosuit’s original purpose?” Dewey asked, turning in his chair to look at Gyro.

“An exoskeleton for making accomplishing everyday tasks easier,” Gyro said with an implied ‘duh’ at the end.

“Then explain the rockets.” Huey said.

“And the lasers.” Gosalyn added.

“The pies?” Daisy asked. “Seriously, what is up with the pies?”

“Have none of you ever heard the phrase ‘first drafts don’t have to be perfect, they just have to be written’?” Gyro asked.

“Gyro, that applies to, like, books and essays and stuff, not _robotic armor_ ,” Della said.

“The Gizmosuit is only a _first draft_?” Donald asked incredulously.

“Enough!” Mrs. Beakley snapped. To Gandra, she said, “Regardless of your original intentions—for good or for ill—we now must deal with the ramifications.”

“Okay, so… what exactly would happen if we just pretended this never happened?” Della asked in the resulting silence. “No one at F.O.W.L has to know what happened, right?”

“Geeze, Della,” Donald said, eyeing his sister sharply.

“What? I’m trying to establish a baseline!” Della exclaimed. “I know how it sounds!”

“I mean, this does sound like a lose-lose situation,” Elise added. “If we can’t win either way, is it better to suffer a large loss or a small one?”

“But making Gandra stay when she doesn’t want to isn’t right either,” Launchpad spoke up.

“Launchpad is correct. If Gandra staying with F.O.W.L is considered a small loss, that does not mean it is not a large loss to her.” Raymond said. “Not to mention the emotional toll on everyone; Gandra for knowing she is returning to a hopeless situation, and everyone else for knowing that they enabled that.”

“How would we even go about this?” Darkwing asked. “Does she stay here in Duckburg? Does she go away? Go into some version of witness protection? Do we even have the resources for this?”

“She has given us no reason to trust her or help her,” Rosa snapped.

“Um,” Lena said slowly, looking at Scrooge and Mrs. Beakley. “Can I give an opinion on this?”

“Yes, Lena?” Scrooge said, both as an answer and a prompt.

Lena took a deep breath and said, “I think we should help Gandra. Even knowing the risks.”

“What?” Webby exclaimed, her eyes wide as she whirled around on her best friend. “But she’s a spy! For an incredibly evil organization!”

“That may be what she is now, but it’s not what she wants to be,” Lena said. “She wants out. She wants to be a better person. If we can help her, then we should. And, think about it. Everything she’s done in the past has been on orders from someone else. Getting a date with Gizmoduck is the only thing we know for certain that she chose and planned to do herself. So is she really evil, if she was just doing what she was told?”

“Nature versus nurture,” Kevin said musingly, nodding slightly.

“Yeah,” Lena said, also nodding.

“And there’s no telling if she’d continue to do what she is told, even after she left!” Webby argued. “Or, what if this is all a trap from F.O.W.L to begin with?”

“Have you seen those bracelets move? Because I haven’t,” Lena said. “All I’m saying is, Gandra won’t have a chance to prove that she’s a good person if we don’t _give_ her a chance. Maybe she hasn’t earned our trust and our help yet. But we need to at least give her an opportunity to do so.”

“She’s had opportunities! She’s had opportunities from the beginning!” Webby argued, throwing her hands in the air.

“It’s a morally gray area, Pink!” Lena exclaimed in frustration. “And if she’s in the gray, she can choose which direction she can go in!”

“Girls, you’ve both made your points,” Mrs. Beakley said, ending the argument. Webby sat back down in her chair, folding her arms over her chest, fuming as she looked away from Lena, who scowled over at Webby. To Gandra, Mrs. Beakley said, “I have one final question for you. Then we will confer on a final decision.”

“Okay,” Gandra said with a sigh. “Hit me.”

“Why do you want to leave F.O.W.L?” Mrs. Beakley asked.

“I just decided to reevaluate my life and what I was doing with it,” Gandra said with a careless shrug. “Thought I could do better.”

Then she gasped.

Because the snakes around her wrists uncoiled, curling up her arms and stopping with the heads at her elbows.

Mrs. Beakley arched an eyebrow at her. “Care to try again?”

“I… I realized I didn’t stand with F.O.W.L’s goals, and didn’t want to be a pawn in reaching those goals.” Gandra said quickly, her eyes widening in horror as the snakes wove around her biceps, going to rest their heads on her shoulders, mouths opening revealing gleaming golden fangs.

Scrooge stepped forward. “We can come back to this question at a—”

“Because I think I’m falling in love with Fenton and knew I’d have to choose, okay!” Gandra yelled.

In the silence, the snakes stayed still.

The silence was broken by a single clop from Manny’s foot, which they all knew translated into one, long, drawn-out, “Oooooh….”

Slowly, all eyes turned from Gandra to Fenton, who stood frozen. Then he closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair.

“I can’t deal with this right now,” He declared. He opened his eyes. “Mr. McDuck, Mrs. Beakley, Darkwing, everyone else… Whatever you decide, I’ll respect the decision.”

With that, he turned and left the lab. Gandra’s gaze dropped to her lap and her fists clenched.

“Manny, take the kids and Miss Dee up to my office,” Scrooge instructed. “We’ll join you shortly.”

*****

‘Shortly’ felt like an eternity for all the waiting parties. Finally, Scrooge arrived with Mrs. Beakley, Raymond, and Gyro.

“Kids,” Scrooge said, resting both hands on the top of his cane. “Step out and return to your respective parental units.”

The kids did so, looking over their shoulders at Gandra as they left.

“So,” Gandra said flatly from where she sat on Scrooge’s desk, twisting a paperweight in her hand, studying it intently. She felt humiliated. Vulnerable. She had laid much more of herself bare tonight than she had ever dreamed of—and to people who were strangers. Strangers who held her fate in their hands. And Fenton… “What’s the verdict?”

“Perhaps against our better judgement, we have decided to help you,” Mrs. Beakley said. “On several conditions.”

“First and foremost,” Scrooge said. “We will have a probationary period, because we want to make absolutely certain that you will not return to F.O.W.L willingly. Dr. Gearloose?”

Gyro stepped forward, holding a small cardboard box. He opened the lid, revealing what looked like a fitness tracking watch.

“As part of your probation, we will be monitoring your GPS location,” Gyro said. “But don’t think of this as a tracker. Think of this as a fun and exciting and overall better to that dumb WaddleWatch.”

“Oh, great, what features does it have that will ultimately make it turn evil?” Gandra asked sarcastically as she stuck out her wrist for Gyro to place the tracker on.

“None,” Gyro said defensively. He paused, then said, “Although it might give you a mild electrical shock if you forget to drink an eight ounce glass of water every two hours during the hours of nine A.M. and nine P.M.”

“Oh, goodie,” Gandra said, rolling her eyes. “Nothing says ‘stay hydrated’ like an electrical shock.”

“ _Mild_ electrical shock,” Gyro corrected. “First degree burns never killed anyone.”

“We also wish to keep a closer eye on you beyond the tracker,” Raymond said as Gandra scowled at Gyro. “You have a history of accepting short-term leases when you freelance, correct?”

“Yeah?” Gandra said, her brow furrowing. “How did you—”

“Miss Daisy Duck is a rather quick and effective researcher,” Scrooge explained.

“Your cover story, then—should F.O.W.L contact you—is that you are still attempting to complete your mission, and that you have taken out a room for rent in the home of myself, my husband, and my daughters,” Raymond said. “Additional steps may and will be taken through magical means, if Lena is willing and has recovered her strength enough after tonight’s events.”

“And, to further that endeavor as well as your cover story,” Scrooge said. “You will also come here, to the Money Bin and its lab, every weekday. There, you will be under observation by Dr. Gearloose, Manny, and Mr. Crackshell-Cabrera.”

Gandra’s beak twisted as she heard Fenton’s name. “Great.” She spat. “Perfect.”

“Do you agree to our current terms?” Mrs. Beakley asked.

“How long, exactly, am I on probation?” Gandra asked.

“A month, at which time we will reconvene and reevaluate, and potentially present you with a new set of terms,” Mrs. Beakley responded.

Gandra closed her eyes and nodded. “I accept.”

“Very well, then,” Raymond said. “Now. Shall we go home? I believe it has been a long night and I know for a fact that neither you nor the girls have eaten much more than appetizers.”

*****

Donald nudged Drake slightly and held out his hands. “Give me the keys to the Ratcatcher. I’ll get it and bring it to the Mansion.”

Drake reached into the pocket of his unbuttoned jacket, handing him the keys. “Not that it matters too much,” He grumbled. “Elise has said I’m not returning to the field anytime soon.”

“Maybe, but you don’t want any hoodlums taking it for a joyride either,” Donald pointed out.

“Touché,” Drake sighed. “Thanks, Donald. Helmets are in the side-car.”

Donald nodded and went over to Daisy. “Uh, I’ll call you a cab…”

“Actually,” Daisy said. “How about I go with you to get the Ratcatcher?”

“Uh, sure?” Donald said.

“It’s not too far, how about we walk?” Daisy suggested.

Donald nodded, and they left the Bin.

The night was quiet as they walked down the streets of Duckburg. And they were quiet.

“I’m sorry,” Donald finally said.

Daisy frowned. “Sorry? About what?”

“The date…” Donald sighed. “It was all ruined. My bad luck struck again, I guess.”

“I didn’t know your bad luck came in the form of two actors from the nineties who suddenly decided they want to be real-life villains.”

“It comes in a lot of forms. And then there was my anger…” His voice trailed off. His shoulder slumped. “I really had hoped to go longer before you saw my anger.”

“Donald,” Daisy said, grabbing his bandaged hand gingerly. “The date wasn’t ruined.”

“Did you miss all the parts about the kids invading, the spy, and the giant mutant lobsters? Or were we on different dates?”

Daisy laughed, shaking her head. “No. We weren’t. I mean, sure, tonight’s been… crazy. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

Donald blinked, staring at her. “Really?”

“Really,” Daisy said, nodding. She smiled a bit bashfully, her cheeks pinking. She reached up to adjust her hair—Donald was amazed it still looked fabulous after everything. “You know… watching you fight tonight, watching you take your anger out on those lobsters… It was actually amazing. You were doing everything to protect your kids, to make sure they could get out safe. So, yes, that may have started out as anger, but it wasn’t pointless anger. And, well, it was kind of… sexy, you know?”

That made Donald stop dead in his tracks, his entire face turning red and hot.

“S-Sexy?” He repeated.

Daisy’s smile grew a little bit. “Yeah. Sexy.”

Donald suddenly grinned, a stupid, happy grin. He squeezed Daisy’s hand.

“Hey, how about, after we grab the Ratcatcher, you and I go find some burgers?” He said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

Daisy rubbed her thumb over Donald’s fingers. “Yeah, same. And how about we get some ice cream for dessert? I know a place that’s open late.”

“It’s a date,” Donald proclaimed.

*****

The car ride home was quiet, and relatively calm given that Launchpad was driving. Gosalyn watched the street lamps go by, occasionally glancing to the front of the car, where she was almost certain her father was asleep, his head against the window.

But, finally, they were home and Gosalyn didn’t even wince as the hood of the car found its resting dent in the garage door.

She unbuckled her seatbelt, then carefully stuck her head between the driver and passenger seats, leaning on the center console, looking at her dad. She whispered to Launchpad, “Is he asleep?”

“I am not,” Drake rumbled.

“He’s not,” Launchpad told Gos with a slight nod. “C’mon, DW. Elise said food, then bed.”

“How about bed then food?” Drake mumbled as he blearily opened his eyes. “Because as soon as I get something to eat, I’m going into a coma.”

“Okay, bed, food, and then sleep,” Launchpad said, getting out of the car. He came around to Drake’s side and started unbuckling him, asking, “You still got that leftover Chinese in the fridge?”

“Yep,” Drake said, accepting Launchpad’s help getting out of the car. “Gos, get the door.”

“Got it,” Gosalyn said, taking Launchpad’s set of keys from the ignition and crawling over the center console to get out the driver’s door. She got the door open, holding the handle from the inside, pressing her back to the wall as Launchpad and Drake entered. Launchpad ruffled her hair.

“How about you go on to bed, Gos, I can take it from here,” Launchpad told her.

For once in her life, she didn’t argue about bedtime.

“Night,” She mumbled, heading for the stairs.

“Gos?”

Gosalyn paused on the stairs and turned to look at her dad, still leaning heavily on Launchpad.

“Yeah, Dad?” She said.

“We’re still going to have to talk about you sneaking out on Launchpad and Della. That wasn’t cool, and it’s never going to happen again, got it?” Drake said.

“Yes, Dad,” Gosalyn said, turning back to head up the stairs.

“Gosalyn?”

She paused again. Drake hesitated, then he said, “I’m sorry. For snapping at you earlier.”

“It’s okay,” She told him.

“No. It’s not,” Drake said, ire in his voice, but she knew this time it wasn’t aimed at her. “It was wrong, I knew I shouldn’t have done it and I did anyway. I’m sorry. I love you, kiddo.”

Gosalyn smiled softly. “Love you, too, Dad.”

She descended the stairs and went over, wrapping her arms around his waist, squeezing tightly. She then let go of him and hugged Launchpad.

“And I’m sorry, too,” Gosalyn told them. “For sneaking out on you and Della. We shouldn’t have spied—”

The word tasted bitter in her mouth, and a tense silence filled the air.

Spy.

They were all thinking about Gandra Dee. How could they not?

“Go on to bed, Gosalyn,” Drake said softly. “We can talk about this more… later.”

Gosalyn once again did not argue. But she paused, then asked, “Can I sleep with you guys tonight?”

“Sure, why not?” Drake said with a bit of a sigh, and a soft smile. “Go get on your PJs and brush your teeth. We’ll meet you there.”

Gosalyn dashed up the stairs, leaving Drake and Launchpad in silence.

They exchanged a look.

“Do you think we’re going to regret… you know?” Launchpad asked in a low voice.

“I hope not,” Drake said as they headed for the stairs. “I sure hope not.”

******

Fenton dragged himself through his backyard, lugging the bag of Gizmoduck armor behind him. He was used to carrying it around by now, but tonight he was exhausted and in no mood to heft the heavy bag on his shoulder.

After leaving the Bin, he had spent hours patrolling the city, looking for Negaduck and Morgana, for errant Beagle Boys, for any hint of crime. He had found very little, and therefore very little to take his mind off… everything.

_“Because I think I’m falling in love with Fenton and knew I’d have to choose, okay!”_

Fenton grimaced as Gandra’s words echoed in his ears.

He sighed and unlocked the door. There were no lights on in the house, and he flicked on the switch.

Fenton let out a yelp and nearly jumped out of his skin upon seeing his mother sitting at the table, apparently waiting for him.

“M’ma!” He exclaimed as he hung up his keys and slid the Gizmoduck bag out of the way. “You know you don’t have to wait up for me! And you have roll-call in the morning…”

“I switched shifts,” Rosa said, her arms folded over her chest, her legs crossed at the knee. “Andy owed me a favor. Come sit down, pollito.”

“M’ma, I really just want to go to bed,” Fenton sighed.

“Fenton. Ahora.” She snapped.

Fenton sighed and slunk over to the table, pulling out a chair and sinking into it. “I don’t want to talk about tonight, or Gandra, or, really, anything, M’ma…”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay, mijo,” Rosa said, placing her hand on his.

“I’ll take a rain check on that answer,” Fenton said. Rosa narrowed her eyes at him. He sighed. “No. I’m not. It’s just… a lot of thoughts and feelings and they’re interfering with each other.”

His mother simply nodded and got up, going over to the stove and turning the dial for the burner under the kettle. Fenton noticed the two mugs, the tags and strings of tea bags twisted around the handles. He knew instinctively that it was chamomile. It was their late night beverage of choice.

This wasn’t the first late-night chat they’d had. Sometimes in complete silence, sometimes not. It had long predated Fenton taking up the mantle of Gizmoduck. Rosa had come home late from shifts—long after she should have been coming home, with only a quick and curt phone-call letting him know that she would be late—to find him sitting at the table, waiting for her. They’d encounter each other when insomnia struck, sleep elusive. They’d take turns ranting about various work troubles.

Soon enough, the kettle whistled and Rosa poured the water. She carried over the two mugs and put one in front of Fenton. Rosa settled back in her seat held her mug between her hands, just studying him.

“Did you have feelings for this girl?” She asked, never one to beat around the bush. “Enough to become love?”

“I don’t know. Maybe,” Fenton admitted, tugging on the tea bag string, bobbing the back up and down in the water. “I told myself to be on my guard. That she was just using me. That I couldn’t spend too much emotional energy on her, after our first date and—” He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I was trying to stop myself from falling in love. We just… clicked in a way I never expected to find with anyone. I figured it’d all be one-sided. But now…”

He trailed off.

Rosa sipped her tea, then asked, “And now?”

“And now, I’m even more unsure than ever.” Fenton said. “I don’t know enough about her. The real her.”

“Well, you’ll get the chance to do so,” Rosa said, then explained what had been decided on.

Fenton put his head in his hands and groaned.

“You cannot complain, pollito,” Rosa said sternly. “You left, you said that you’d respect whatever decision was made.”

“I know, I know, and I do,” Fenton assured. “It’s just… it’s not going to be comfortable.”

“No, it won’t.” Rosa agreed. Her eyes turned hard and she said, “Promise me you’ll be on your guard around her, mijo. Don’t get too close to her. Don’t let her manipulate you again.”

“I promise, M’ma,” Fenton told her, sipping his tea. “I will not make a fool of myself for Gandra Dee again.”

*****

Morgana couldn’t stop her giggle of delight as she smiled at the Blood Ruby in her hands, at the magic that was singing in her blood, making every nerve tingle. She felt giddy. She felt powerful. She felt magical.

She wanted more.

Jim leaned back on the couch beside her, resting his arms on the back of the sofa, his head tilted back, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

“All in all, a good first time out,” He commented. He reached up and took off his hat, tossing it across the room like a Frisbee, where it landed on top of a stuffed raven. Jim looked Morgana in the eye and said, “But you know what I’m thinking?”

“That we can do more?” She said.

Jim’s smile was large and cat-like. “You’ve always been able to read my mind, toots. But you know what else I’m thinking?”

“That we should get some wine to celebrate?”

“No, but that’s a good idea, too,” Jim said. “Actually, what I’m thinking is, why should we bother with all this grunt work?”

Morgana tilted her head, clenching her fist around her Ruby. “What do you have in mind?”

“I’m thinking we get ourselves a team going,” Jim said. “Remember the Fearsome Four?”

“Liquidator, Bushroot, Megavolt, and Quackerjack,” Morgana said. “Yes. I teamed up with them for an episode, remember?”

“And you made it incredibly hard for me to stay in a professional mindset, you little minx,” Jim growled in a playful manner that made Morgana giggle again. “But, yes. Them yahoos. How about we get our own little team of yahoo minions?”

“Ooh, that’s really going the extra, evil mile,” Morgana said, her eyes gleaming. “I like it. Let’s do it. I assume you already have someone in mind?”

“That I do,” Jim said. “And he’s already got the right name for it. Morgana, I think it’s time we introduced ourselves to Duckburg’s very own Megavolt.”


End file.
